Twins vs the Unexplainable
by Quinis
Summary: On one hand: you have twins. On the other: you have mutations, magic, fantasy, the supernatural and sci-fi elements. Another series of one-shots revolving around the oldest con in the book with containing a mystical twist.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes: **Welcome to **Twins vs the Unexplainable! **This is the newest addition to what I call the 'Twins Series' which includes 'Spies vs Cons' and 'CIs vs Agents'.

This collection revolves around stories with mutations, magic, fantasy, the supernatural and sci-fi elements. If it's marked **Incomplete **then there are prompts in the queue which will be posted here when complete. If it's marked **Complete **it means there are currently no prompts in queue to be posted here.

* * *

**Life on the Other Side**

* * *

From Saj_te_Gyuhyall at AO3:

_And have you considered an X-man style fic with the twins as mutants? They have different powers, though. And maybe funnily opposite? Like Neal's power is on the more potentially violent and/or offensive side of things, while Bryce's is a passive or at least not particularly useful gift in a fight?_

**Notes: **The inspiration for Bryce's mutation comes from a manga called 'Iris Zero' where starting 25 years before the story children began to be born with a power to see something beyond the ordinary; like people growing a tail when they lie or butterflies surrounding things near their death, this power is called an 'iris'.

* * *

**Neal.**

* * *

Neal sometimes wished that, if he had to be what he was, he could at least have a mutation like Bryce's. A mutation which could came in handy when searching for a mark. But, no, he was stuck with his own. A power he never wanted.

Thankfully, being in WITSEC meant those incidents when he was young, where people ended up in hospital, were covered up. Neal's mutation, his X-gene as they later named it, was hidden for his own safety and the safety of his family.

Even when Peter caught him and he was locked up in prison, his secret was kept. He watched as the X-gene was exposed to the general public and met with fear, then worry, and some reluctant acceptance. By the time he escaped, most people figured that the X-gene and mutants were here to stay and they were met with acceptance in some places.

Even so, when Neal made his deal with Peter and the FBI, his mutation wasn't revealed.

* * *

Neal had been surprised the morning he walked into the Burke house to see El moving through the kitchen as a blur, fast and controlled. She didn't notice him for a few moments, during which seemed to make a bowl of cereal and fill it with milk from the fridge in only three seconds.

"Neal!" she gasped, dropping the milk as soon as she spotted him standing there. Neal's mouth was open and he obviously shocked; there was no doubt that he had seen her. "I'm sorry I never told you," she added, "but, it's not something that I like to share, you know?"

Neal nodded but his mouth remained ajar and he didn't really comprehend. He was stuck on the 'El is a mutant' train of thought. There were no signs, nothing odd about her until now, and she was a wonderful person. How could she be one?

He selfishly thought that he should have noticed and he wished that he had a mutation like hers, able to move quicker than normal; now that would come in handy.

"Neal," Peter sighed from the doorway, ready to launch into another 'Sunday is a Neal-free day' speech. But he noticed El's slight distress and the way Neal seemed to be frozen.

"He saw me," El informed him, pleading Peter with her eyes to do something. He knew that El had lost jobs when people found out about her X-gene and even he had been asked how he could have married 'a mutant' right in front of her. He had been there when she fought her last unfair dismissal, right before using the money she wrangled out of it to start 'Burke Premier Events'.

He nodded to his wife and she left. It would have been hard for her to stay and hear whatever, possibly hurtful thing, Neal was going to say. Not that Peter thought Neal was like that, but he had found that when it came to the X-gene, people always managed to surprise him and not in a good way.

"Neal, is this going to be a problem?" he asked.

Neal shook his head.

"Have you been tested?" Neal asked.

Peter nodded.

"All government agents are tested. I don't possess the X-gene."

Neal nodded but gave him a strange look Peter had never seen before. It was possibly a mix of interest, awe and... fear? Sadness? He noticed the Neal would give him that look a lot over the next few months, when he thought Peter's back was turned.

* * *

Neal thought that El was somewhat lucky. Sure, she had the X-gene but her mutation wasn't destructive and was actually useful.

And she had Peter.

Neal had never mentioned it to anyone but, he knew why Kate had broken up with him that day. In her coded letters to him, she said had found out about his X-gene from one of the few people who knew about it; Keller, and she had a few choice words about it. Unfortunately, Keller only knew he possessed the X-gene and not what his mutation was. She made a few good guesses, all being empathic-like abilities or something to do with his eyes, but she was wrong.

Not that Neal cared. Let them guess; their inaccuracies were better than the truth.

He did wonder if Peter would accept him and his mutation, even though his was far more dangerous than El's. It was nice to dream about.

* * *

Neal was surprised that Keller didn't expose his X-gene to the FBI for leniency when they caught him. Keller had told Kate, Wilkes and Mozzie. What Neal didn't know was that Keller had another plan up his sleeve. He let them think he was all out of moves and confessed to stealing the treasure, even while he had another plan in the works.

A plan for revenge, enacted while he was in Russian custody awaiting trial.

* * *

It was a crude but effective plan. Guns pointed in Peter's face as he pulled over to drop Neal off at June's and an order to drive as hired goons got into the car. None of them appeared to be mutants, but looks could be deceiving.

They guided them to an abandoned warehouse and ordered them out of the car. Their hands were tied with zipties and they were searched for hidden weapons. Neal's anklet had been cut and thrown out the window during the drive but now, they brought out something to replace it.

Neal shivered at the sight. He didn't need Peter to tell him what it was, he knew already.

"A suppression device?" Peter questioned.

"That's right," the leader of the group said, "we figured that you're little pet needs sometimes to replace his leash."

"Neal?" Peter glared at the group. "What's the point of putting a suppression device on him?"

"Peter," Neal said, urging him with his voice to drop it. He didn't like the smile that grew on the leader's face nor the way the other hired goons seemed to smirk at him. And that's when he realised; these weren't other mutants hired by Keller to teach him a lesson, his was a gang of haters who Keller gave his information to and let their blinded opinion of mutants being monsters do the rest.

And that was terrifying. Hired goons could be reasoned, even bargained with. But, people in it for the thrill of destroying those they didn't see as people and blinded by their own fear-born and mistaken opinions, those kinds of people couldn't be reasoned with. They wouldn't hear anything Neal had to say and anything he did say would only rile them up more.

"Of course he didn't tell you," the leader said, "he's not human. He's a mutant."

"What?" Peter gasped, looking over at Neal. "You have the X-gene?"

Neal couldn't meet his gaze. He kept his head bowed, low enough to appear cowed but high enough to allow him to monitor where everyone was. He couldn't afford to take his eyes of the leader and the gang.

Guns cocked and the sound of blunt objects hitting the ground thudded in Neal's ears. The group was getting restless. He knew that this would end in his death, just another statistic added to the group of X-gene carriers who were attacked and either injured or killed.

Peter seemed to realise it too.

"Leave him alone," he ordered, stepping behind Neal as one of the group stepped closer to Neal's back. They were surrounded, weaponless and the suppression device was dangling too close for Neal's comfort.

"We want to see what he can do," one of the group jeered as they hoisted a crowbar up like a baseball bat.

"Yeah!" some of the others agreed.

Neal swallowed.

"You don't know what you're asking," he said. There was a smack from behind and he flinched, expecting pain. Instead, Peter grunted and his warmth dropped away from Neal's back. It took him a moment to realise what had happened. "Peter!"

He got a groan in response and the sound of another whack filled the air.

Neal screamed; if they wanted to see it, well, he was going to oblige. It wasn't a 'scream', per say, more like a blast. Humans didn't hear anything, although some heard high-pitched mosquito sounds moments before the blast, but they could feel it.

Neal mutation allowed him to use his voice as a weapon, a soundwave blast which blasted through anything before him. Instead of sounds coming out of his throat and mouth, ripping shockwaves escape instead.

They threw the men back and knocked them unconscious. They blasted through the windows, walls and doors of the warehouse.

Neal turned, and in a blast which would be a whisper in his voice as any louder would be equivalent to the force of a bomb, he knocked the men away from Peter.

They would probably have broken bones or something else and Neal was going to call an ambulance once he got Peter away. Thankfully, he had enough unconscious control to hold back when facing humans, so he hadn't killed anyone with his mutation but, there were a few teenagers who had significant hearing loss and other permanent injures of varying severity because of him.

He hated it.

* * *

Peter had seen it all from the ground. Neal's blasts missed him because he was lying at the other man's feet but, he saw the effect they had on the surrounding area.

When Neal realised that, he froze.

"We need to get out of here," Peter told him, grabbing his hand. Neal automatically pulled away. He looked at the unconscious men around them. "Yes, we need to grab them too," Peter said, "this place could come down any moment."

Neal nodded and reached for the nearest man. He helped Peter drag them outside and lifted one of their phones in the process. As Peter went back in to grab the last man, Neal took his chance to crush the suppression device under his feet and took pleasure in hearing it crunch.

"That's the last of them?" Peter questioned. He was worried about Neal as he wasn't talking or responding verbally to any of his questions.

Neal nodded and held up a phone screen for Peter to see.

_[You need to call for EMTs,]_ he had typed.

"What?" Peter responded, "Neal? What's wrong?" Neal gave him a quizzical look as he didn't understand the question. "You haven't damaged your voice or something?"

Neal's face lit up with sudden understanding and he typed another message on the phone and then showed it to Peter.

_[If I speak, it'll create another blast. I won't have my voice back for a while.]_ He could feel the tingle in his throat the meant his mutation was still active. He pulled the phone back and added,_ [there's no 'off' switch, we have to wait for it to stop on its own,]_ showing his message to Peter again when he was done.

"Oh." That explained it. Peter held his hand out for the phone and called the emergency services.

* * *

It was different to how Neal dreamed it. In his dreams, Peter kept it a secret and everything stayed the same. In reality, Peter insisted on telling Jones and Diana. They were a team and they needed to know in case there was a reason for Neal to use his mutation again.

Jones told Neal a story about a friend he knew back when he was serving. He also had the X-gene and was able to make himself invisible. He had used it once to save Jones but had been unable to save himself from the harassment and contempt he received from everyone else. Jones had been unable to help him, hadn't realised there was a problem. He ended the story by saying that he had Neal's back.

Diana started off by saying the same; she had Neal's back. She didn't probe except to ask how he had managed to keep them from finding out since there was mandatory testing for prisoners. Neal responded with a joke about how he was a 'highly classified secret' and she dropped the subject.

Peter was still Peter, which mean he insisted that Neal be the one to tell his wife because he couldn't keep a secret from her.

El was surprised, the most surprised of everyone. They joked about how they should have recognised each other, both being mutants, and had a good chat about how it affected their lives. Neal told her about Kate and she shared a story about some guy called 'Jack' during her teenage years, who not only dumped her when he found out but tried to break into her house and her father had to scare him off.

In Neal's dreams, everything remained the same. In reality, Jones kept a watchful eye on him and always asked how he was, Diana shared news about her nights out with Christie and, ironically enough, Peter seemed more trusting of him.

* * *

**Bryce.**

* * *

He was not an accountant. Being a spy, he had little use for money as whatever he needed was supplied by the CIA.

Who ever heard of being able to see how much money someone had access to? It was a ridiculous mutation that had the potential to clutter his vision with numbers when he was in a crowd.

Why couldn't he have something like Neal's? At least that would come handy when surrounded by angry gunmen or locked in a dungeon. However mutations were decided, Bryce held the belief that his and Neal's were mixed up.

* * *

Chuck had been surprised when Bryce told him. He didn't react with hate, anger or fear. He reacted with quiet thoughtfulness. He commented that he understood Bryce's reasons for not telling him and was surprised Bryce told him. There were a few tense days as Chuck thought about it but, in the end, everything returned to normal. It wasn't like Bryce's mutation was able to affect others.

Chuck was the second person; the first being Neal, to ask if he could use his ability to find money lying on the street. No, his ability didn't work like that, probably because it relied on him being able to see his target.

* * *

The CIA hired him even though his mutation wasn't really useful to them. Not when Bryce's strengths lay elsewhere. It did provide inspiration for his cover as an accountant, though.

However, with his mutation, being around spies bugged him sometimes. Even with Sarah Walker. The numbers on them were numerous and always changing but he leant to tell when the money was from the CIA for a mission. A lot of spies had other accounts, other ways to access money for a 'just in case' scenario where they couldn't rely on the CIA. Sarah Walker had several as did Daniel Shaw. So did he.

And he saw them all. It was really annoying.

It did make identifying spies easier, criminals too.

* * *

When Casey shot him, he couldn't help thinking how he wanted Neal's mutation to blast the guy onto the wall instead of seeing how much money he was making from shooting him.

He was worth more than that, for sure!

* * *

When he woke in the CIA holding cell, the first thing he noticed was the lack of numbers floating around the one or two people who came in to check his vitals. It took a while but he become conscious of the metal of a suppression device around his ankle.

He needed Chuck. But, when he appeared, Bryce couldn't tell if it was him or not. He couldn't tell if he was being paid to be here or if this was some kind of double, not without the numbers.

At least he had another way to confirm Chuck's identity. Few spies studied Klingon and even less would be able to speak it as fluently as Chuck could. His plan worked and he managed to escape and prove his innocence. Chuck helped a little.

The numbers came back when he removed that device from around his ankle. He had stared at it for a few moments before cutting it off, wondering what it would be like to just keep it. No more mutation and no more money numbers floating around, constantly changing as the person's accounts and access changed. But, it was a part of him. It was normal for him as he had been seeing these numbers since he was eleven. Although, he wasn't tested until he was twelve when Neal's mutation had revealed itself by spectacularly destroying the neighbour's house as the kid who lived there attacked an innocent bird that landed in their yard. Neal's mutation was obvious when he used it, Bryce's wasn't.

It couldn't be used to identify Fulcrum and Ring agents like how he used it to indentify spies, unfortunately. Even though they received extra pay and access to wider funds, it was mixed in with their CIA pay and, depending on the skill of the spy, could be hidden in multiple ordinary appearing spy caches.

He wondered how the Intersect might affect it but, he didn't get a chance to find out. Before he fainted from blood loss, he noticed that Chuck had begun keeping a hidden cache of funds like a real spy.

He opened his eyes an unknown amount of time later in a CIA medical ward and with Sarah's voice in his ears, calling his name.

* * *

He spent the next six months or so recovering. And, one day, he received a call from Neal. It wasn't a surprise as Bryce had been keeping tabs on his older twin. His idiotic older twin.

"What did you do?" he demanded to know as Neal had been arrested, again. This time, it was for stealing a jewel necklace.

"It wasn't me!" Neal insisted. And if he said it wasn't him, then it probably wasn't. "I've been framed."

"What?"

Neal quickly explained about the FBI agent, Fowler and how he wanted Bryce to look him over.

"Can you see if he's working for someone outside of the FBI?"

"Of course," Bryce responded, "but my, '_you know', _only lets me see the amounts he has access to; in his wallet, in the bank, hidden away, that sort of thing, it doesn't let me see where the money is coming from or what he spends it on."

"See Mozzie," Neal said, "he should have a record of Fowler's pay. Compare that."

Bryce smirked at the authoritative tone in his brother's voice. They both knew he would do it and there was no need for him to say so. But, Bryce couldn't resist a tease.

"So, investigating the FBI, are you finally thinking about joining me 'on the dark side'?" As Mozzie liked to say.

"No," was the flat response. "I'm not going to do anything that requires me to carry and use a gun.

"I guessed as much," Bryce said, "do you need any help proving your innocence?"

"Nah," Neal responded confidently, "Peter can help me."

Neal said it with such certainty that Bryce was stunned. He didn't need Bryce's help because he was sure the Peter, the FBI agent who arrested him, would help him.

Bryce hung up and muttered a little, "I hope you're right," into the air. In his experience, the FBI was very narrow-minded and inflexible. Since finding out about Neal's deal with the FBI, Bryce had often wondered how his flexible and intelligent brother would handle being there.

Someone with Neal's skills would be much better suited to the CIA; it was too bad he kept refusing Bryce's offers.

Bryce called the General and put in for a week off.

* * *

There were only a few discrepancies in Fowler's accounts and nothing to suggest that someone else was paying him to meddle in Neal's life.

But, there were other ways to get someone to do what you wanted without paying them...

* * *

Years later, words that Mozzie said during the investigation into Fowler; words about standing by those you trust, brought Bryce to Chuck's door. Chuck's new door. A red door attached to a white house complete with a white picket fence.

He stood there and wondered if he should knock. Did Chuck really need him back in his life?

"Excuse me," a voice said, jolting him out of his thoughts. A brown haired older lady was walking up the path. She was wearing a dark trench coat and sunglasses. She didn't just look like a spy, the way she snuck up on him and the money he could see she had access to meant that she was most certainly a spy "Do you have business with the people living here?"

He hesitated for a moment. He didn't know whether she was friend or enemy or why she was here.

"No," he responded. It wasn't his business if Chuck had attracted the attention of another spy. He started to walk back down the steps, his heart heavy.

He was there, he should at least find out what this other spy wanted. But, Chuck was a spy himself so he should be able to handle it.

"Hold it," the woman said, pressing a gun into his back. "I think you'd better tell me what you're doing here."

"Is this some kind of robbery or something?" he questioned in an annoyed tone.

"Don't play dumb with me," she said, "I've been in the business a long time and I can spot when someone's not quite right."

"'Not quite right'?" Now, was she talking about him being a mutant or about him being a spy?

"Anklet holster, just to name the obvious," she said, reaching down and flipping up his slacks and taking the gun. So, she was talking about him being a spy. "I really hope you weren't going to walk into my son's house with that on you."

Wait? "What? Son?" Chuck said that his mother had disappeared. He turned around to look at the woman. This professional spy was Chuck's mother? "Chuck?"

"That's right," she said, tucking his gun into her coat and keeping the other pointed at him. "Now, we're going to go inside, nice and orderly and you're going to tell me why you're here."

Bryce sighed and decided to go with the flow. He had been here to visit anyway. She guided him expertly back up the steps and into the house. She guided him into the lounge room, complete with a couch and an empty fireplace, and motioned for him to sit.

"Mum?" Chuck questioned as his footsteps sounded in another room.

"Here," she called back, "I found a straggler outside."

Chuck stepped into the room with a worried frown on his face. Bryce felt his eyes widen at the figure of his old friend. He had cut his hair short and styled it back and gained some more muscle and his accounts were spy-like. It looked like he was still with the CIA but there was something else.

Chuck's jaw went slack when he spotted him. It was like a punch to the gut to see the hurt and fear on Chuck's face as he tried to process his presence.

"Charles?"

"Uh, mum, this is Bryce. Bryce Larkin. Bryce, this is Mary Bartowski."

Bryce felt Mary glance curiously at him. But, his main worry was Chuck, who appeared to be swaying slightly.

"Chuck? You want to sit down?"

Chuck nodded and dropped into the reclining chair in the corner.

"If you want mummy to shoot him, I can," Mary offered, moving the gun to point at Bryce's face.

"No!" Chuck gasped in horror, "just, put the gun away."

"Besides, Casey has first dibs," Sarah commented from the doorway.

"Oh well." Mary put the gun away. "Maybe I'll give him a call."

"Please don't," Chuck said. He took a deep breath and then looked at Bryce, his gaze growing determined. "I think we need to talk first."

* * *

Bryce had answered their questions and made his proposition. Once again, Chuck was staring at him, this time in disbelief, with his jaw unhinged. It was an expression that Sarah mirrored.

Okay, it was a stupid idea. But, Chuck had told him about Carmichael Industries and how he was still operating it with the General's blessings, even though they were CIA. And they had talked about working in the same company after Stanford before he joined the CIA.

No matter how embarrassing it felt and how unnerving their stares were, Bryce wasn't going to take it back. He had come this far.

"You want to work with us?" Sarah questioned, "are you sure that's wise?"

"No," he responded, "it's not wise but, I still want to."

"It's not like we're not hiring," Chuck said to Sarah, "and Bryce would make a good addition to the Nerd Herd."

Sarah frowned. Bryce gave his most encouraging smile when she looked at him.

"Alright," she relented.

Bryce cheered internally, not showing anything more than a smile on his face, while Chuck gave a small 'yes' and pumped his fist in the air.

* * *

Within a few weeks, Bryce learnt how to use his mutation to tell how much money a shopper had to spend. He set up signals with Casey, Chuck and, later, Morgan in order to convey to them whether a shopper had more or less to spend than whatever they were showing them.


	2. RC - Rare Critters

**Rare Critters**

* * *

From Guest at AO3:

_There should be chapter where the twins are animals but they can be turned into human. They still have animal ears and tails through. Rare human trafficking basically. Team bartowski save both twins_

* * *

This was the less glamorous part of being a spy, Chuck thought as he walked down the rows of cages.

"You can pick one," the man said, "this one is a lovely lady with orange hair and green eyes," he pointed to a hissing tabby cat. "This one is a feisty one with golden hair and blue eyes, we call her 'Princess'." Chuck thought that 'Princess' looked like an ordinary, although angry and hissing, white and fluffy cat.

He couldn't believe that these animals were supposed to be human.

"I'm looking for a man," Chuck quickly burst out, feeling his cheeks flush. He wasn't really into men, his own wife outside in the van but, they were following a lead.

Verbanski had placed them on this track, after hearing about a missing person in New York. She found a picture of the missing person and discovered he looked just like Bryce which spurred her to look into his disappearance.

It was linked to this group; who claimed to give people a 'transformation experience'. At first, they thought it was a cult but no, it was a human trafficking ring. They sold people who they called 'Critter Chunks' or 'CCs'.

Humans who weren't quite human. They could transform into animals and, even while human, possessed animal features.

Chuck still thought they were a crazy cult. But, the government had been keeping CCs secret from the rest of the world for years.

It was one big conspiracy.

"Here we are," the man said, stopping outside a door. "You're payment has been processed and we'll allow you thirty minutes with him to decide whether you want to keep him."

"Does he have dark hair and blue eyes?" Chuck asked.

The man nodded.

"If you don't like this one, there are others."

Chuck bit the inside of his cheek and nodded. The man opened the door.

The room was small and Chuck could hold his arms out and touch both sides of the wall. There was a dog lying on a mat, which weakly raised its head to look at him.

"Oh for the-" the man came in and poked it with a long electric rod.

The dog gave a sharp bark of pain and, suddenly, a dark haired kid was lying there and glaring up at them with blue eyes.

Chuck's mouth opened and shut, his mind unable to come up with what to say.

"Well?" the man asked, perhaps sensing his hesitation.

"He's a little young," Chuck commented. He thought, disappointed, that this wasn't Bryce.

The man seemed to think about this for a moment.

"I have a set you might like?" he suggested.

Internally, Chuck sighed. A set wasn't what he came for. But, Casey had warned him to agree to any suggestions and not make the guide suspicious.

"Alright."

* * *

The set were two little black cats with large blue eyes. Chuck thought that he might have been tempted to take them home, if they were real cats and this wasn't a mission.

The man poked one of them, the cat yowling and transforming.

Chuck drew in a sharp breath. Dark wavy hair, piercing blue eyes and a set jaw that was dark with stubble.

Bryce.

"You like?" the man questioned. Chuck nodded. "Remember, thirty minutes. And watch him, he and that brother of his are tricky ones." And he was gone.

Bryce looked up at Chuck; wearing dark shades and with his hair sleeked back, and growled. He moved in front of the other cat and bared his teeth.

"Bryce?" Chuck questioned, backing up towards the door. "What did they do to you?" He took of his shades and Bryce blinked, his fuzzy, large, catlike ears going flat.

"Chuck?" he questioned, his tail curling into something like a question mark.

Chuck slid to the ground; it finally sinking in. Bryce had non-human ears and a tail!

The other cat meowed and transformed, Neal appearing behind Bryce and looking at Chuck with hope in his eyes.

"Are you here to get us out?" he asked.

"Danny?" Chuck questioned. He had forgotten about Bryce's twin.

"It's Neal now," Neal said. He self-consciously tugged the dirty and damaged sweatpants he was wearing up as his tail curled around his feet.

"What- I'm confused." Despite being here to find Bryce, Chuck didn't believe in this CCs stuff. But, he was seeing it with his own eyes. "You didn't have those in Stanford."

Bryce's ears twitched and his tail drooped.

"You're not wired?" Neal asked and Chuck shook his head.

"Couldn't risk it." There were scanning devises everywhere and visitors were subjected to random checks. But, there was a tracker in his pocket that was only to be activated when he found Bryce. He had already pushed the button. Now he just had to wait.

Bryce and Neal shared looks. Then, Neal spoke again.

"There are experimental drugs that allowed us to suppress our," he hesitated on the word before speaking, "condition. But, they only work for a certain number of years."

"I had to fake my death the second time because the drug was starting to lose effectiveness," Bryce explained.

"I was lucky," Neal sighed, "a friend found a way to make the drug last longer so no one found out until these people took me. Peter probably thinks I ran."

"Peter Burke in New York?" Chuck questioned.

"Yes, wait, no. He should be in DC," Neal said.

"There's a Peter Burke in New York though," Chuck said, "he's agent, Diana Berrigan, contacted Verbanski about what I'm guessing was your disappearance. They're looking really hard for you."

"Oh no," Neal whined, placing his head in his hands and curling up into a sitting ball. "He gave up that DC job for me."

"Maybe Beckman can get it back for him," Chuck suggested.

"We need to get out of here first," Bryce pointed out, "what's the plan?"

Almost on cue, shots rang out from the other side of the door. There were yells of 'Federal agents!' and 'Freeze!'

"That's the plan," Chuck said smugly, "Beckman gave us a team, since the CIA has been after these guys for a while, and even Verbanski lent as a team."

Bryce gave an impressed whistle.

"You've really grown as a spy, Charles," he praised.

Chuck felt warm with the praise. He had never thought that he would hear Bryce say that, since he thought the other agent was dead.

"Chuck?" Sarah called, "it's all clear."

"Ready?" Chuck asked before opening the door.

"If you don't do it, I will," Neal said, baring his teeth in anticipation. Bryce nudged him in the side.

"It's not Chuck's fault you're here, be nice," he warned, his tail flicking towards his twin.

Neal's ears twitched and his tail flicked out to hit Bryce's leg.

"Opening the door now," Chuck said, hoping to halt whatever fight was growing between the two. He turned away to check outside before opening it all the way and, when he turned back, he was looking at two cats.

"Seriously?" he questioned and their mews sounded like laughter.


	3. RC2 - Rare Critters 2

**RC2 – Rare Critters 2**

* * *

From Love_82 at AO3:

_Neal going back to New York and Peter finding out he can change into a cat. I just have this image of cat Neal laying in Peter's lap and purring. :D_

* * *

The dark cat was ignored by most New Yorkers, which was okay with it. It bobbed and weaved through legs, following the dark man in a suit through the crowds. Its blue eyes never left its target.

Peter noticed it though, following Jones inside the FBI building like a lost duckling. He followed it and reached out, plucking it from the ground before it could follow Jones into the elevator.

It yowled and lashed out with its claws but Peter held it steady. He was used to handling cats as his parents had two as pets.

"Oh," Jones commented, finally noticing the cat, "it seems I had a little follower."

Peter gave a week smile, trying to ignore the burning in his eyes that told him that he needed more sleep.

"Hmm," he responded, unable to think of an appropriate response. Maybe something about how easy it was for a cat to break into the FBI building?

Interestingly enough, the cat stilled in his arms at the sound of his voice and its blue eyes gazed over his face like it couldn't believe what it was looking at. He found himself running a hand over its soft fur and drawing comfort from its warmth.

"Any word of Neal?" he asked, the lump in his chest thudding. It hurt to ask, to see the pity in Jones' eyes and to see him shake his head. The office was torn between believing Neal ran and believing Neal had been taken.

Peter believed that Neal had been taken, although it had took a few days to come to that conclusion. Mozzie had proven obstinate until he admitted that the reason he knew Neal hadn't run was because he was still working out their exit strategy.

"Hey Boss," Diana greeted him, looking just as tired as he felt. He wondered if that had to do with Neal's disappearance or Theo not sleeping properly. Maybe both? "You have a meeting in ten minutes, about Neal."

"What?" he questioned as this was news to him. He would barely have time to check his emails if there was an impromptu meeting.

"A Sarah Bartowski from Carmichael Industries is coming to speak to you."

Peter sighed.

"Send her up when she arrives," he said, beginning his walk to his office. The cat in his arms gave a 'mew' and rubbed up against his chest. "Thanks for the comfort, little guy," he murmured to it, "but it's not much help. I'd feel better if I knew Neal was safe." The cat looked at him sadly as he opened his office door. "Not you too," he grumbled. Even the cat pitied him.

It meowed in response and wriggled a little bit. Thankfully, Peter had reached his seat so he sat down while keeping his hand on the cat; he let it settle itself in his lap.

He typed his password and looked over his emails. Nothing important and, by important, he meant relating to Neal. As he skimmed through the emails, he stroked his hand through the cat's fur. It vibrated and purred and Peter smiled for the first time in a while.

He felt the tight knot in his chest loosen a little as he relaxed.

"You're a carefree little creature, aren't you?" he commented, scratching under the cat's chin.

It gave him a glare and then rolled in his lap, revealing its stomach. Peter gave a chuckle and rubbed its belly.

"Just like Satchmo," he commented, even though Satch wouldn't fit in his lap, "are you sure you're not part dog?"

The cat gave him an offended look and then returned to enjoying its belly scratch.

* * *

Peter was not playing with the cat. No, the cat was the one who jumped up on his desk and started playing with one of his pens. Peter was trying to get the pen back when the cat bat a paw at it. He decided to see what would happen if he held the pen higher; it was an experiment and not a game. The cat reared back and continued batting at the pen.

"There you are!" a hard voice proclaimed.

The cat yowled in surprise and dropped off the table.

"Uh, can I help you?" Peter questioned after jumping out of his chair and making sure the cat was okay.

"Sarah Bartowski," she said, her short blond hair bouncing around her head. She glared at the cat on the floor. "I've been looking for you, you know."

To Peter's bewilderment, the cat stuck a tongue out at her. He knew that it was smart but, it seemed more human than any other cat he had ever met.

"Agent Burke, what do you know about Critter Chunks or 'CCs'?" Sarah asked, closing the door behind her and taking a seat.

The cat hissed at her feet before dashing around and jumping into Peter's lap.

"Nothing?" Peter responded in confusion. The woman handed him a file and he opened it.

"Humans that possess animal features?" he asked her in disbelief. The report also said that they could also transform into their animal.

"That's right," she said, "the government is currently keeping their secret in order to protect them."

Peter closed the file and pushed it back to her.

"What does this have to do with my White Collar division?" he asked. He preferred not to know about things like this. It meant fewer secrets to keep from his wife and it wasn't like his job involved any of these CCs.

"Neal Caffrey," Sarah said, those two words catching Peter's attention, "he worked with your division. He's also a CC."

"What?" Neal fit the description of human and he certainly didn't possess animal features.

"He was using a drug to keep his condition a secret," Sarah explained, "but, somehow, a group of CC traffickers found him. They were keeping him captive until someone offered to buy him."

"What?" Peter roared, his hands clenching. If anything happened to Neal... he left the threat hanging in his head.

The cat yowled again as it fell to the ground when Peter stood.

"He's okay!" Sarah was quick to reassure him, "we managed to rescue him and his brother."

"Brother?" This was all very confusing.

"You can ask him about that," Sarah assured him. She pushed the file towards him. "This contains everything about Neal's kidnapping, including the public story. He was kidnapped by a human trafficker and rescued by us. And he knows the laws concerning CCs."

"Laws?"

Sarah gave him a knowing look, although he didn't understand why, and left. She only had one last tip before she left; to close the blinds so that no one could see.

* * *

Peter followed her instructions, feeling foolish. What was this supposed to do?

"I don't like her," Neal's voice suddenly rang out. Peter turned around in a panic.

"Neal?" The conman appeared to be there, sitting next to his desk and wearing only a pair of sweatpants. His hair was a mess and there was dark stubble across his chin but, Peter didn't care.

He pulled Neal into a tight hug and hoped he wasn't seeing things. Neal felt solid enough. He froze in Peter's grip for a moment before relaxing into the hug.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked when they pulled apart.

"Mostly," Neal responded, his ears twitching. "They had prods and they hurt but, other than that, just a little hungry. Oh, and I need a shower, I smell of cat."

Peter stared at him a moment more. Neal had two big and fuzzy cat ears where his human ears had been and, flicking around behind him, was a tail.

Okay. Peter decided to ignore all that. Neal was back and that was what was important.

"Why don't you like her?" he asked.

"She used to date my brother," Neal responded with a shrug. "That's reason enough."

The words, overprotective sibling, rang through Peter's head.

"Alright, let's get you cleaned up and then announce the good news."

Neal hesitated for a moment.

"I can't go outside like this," he said, a hand reaching up to tug at an ear. "I need to cover my head and hide my tail."

Peter gave him a look that said, 'can't you work out a solution?'. A moment later, there was a pop and Neal was gone, replaced by the black cat from before. It walked over to the door and looked at him.

"Seriously?" Peter thought, actually amused by the thought of walking through the office with a cat following him. "You could have explained yourself first," he grumbled good-naturedly.

Neal just mewed, as if to tell him to hurry up.


	4. PP - Part of the Pack

**Part of the Pack**

* * *

From Saj_te_Gyuhyall at AO3:

_You've successfully managed anime style kitty boys (kudos to you!) how about werewolves? Not the type that are uncontrollable beasts, so nothing like in HP, BtVS, and SPN though. I'm a fan of the Teen Wolf style myself, and Patricia briggs's world is awesome too... Or if you're not familiar with any of the more in control verses, make up your own mythos! :D The boys are born what they are, or turned at the same time? Both have exceedingly good control and only chance or choice outs them! (In Patricia Briggs's books werewolves choose to all come out of the supernatural closet because science is starting to realize the exist, as an example!)_

* * *

There were things that ordinary people had no understanding of. Neal took a lot of pride in being one of those things.

Most days. But, most days didn't involve a full moon, alcohol and a visit from his twin brother.

Full moons made him twitchy and energetic; eager to move, to run, to jump, to shift.

Alcohol made him willing to take risks.

Visits from his twin brother made him enjoy shifting as he had someone to share it with.

The combination was a deadly one. Bryce placed the wine glasses away and gave him that wild smile, the one he got when he pulled off some kind of really difficult mission.

And then he shifted. One moment a man, the next a wolf. He stretched and snuffed at the air.

He looked and Neal and Neal found himself smiling. It had been a while and Mozzie was out of town so, Neal reached inside him and twinged the wild part of him. A flashing feeling similar to a shiver ran over his body before it changed. The world widened as the floor rushed closer, his senses dialled into the change and the colours faded from his vision at the same time he was assaulted with an assortment of scents and sounds, his muscles bulged with strength and his tongue lolled out of his jaw.

He gave a soft whine as the twitchy feeling dissipated with his change. He lay out on the cold floor and started to close his eyes.

The sharp, musky sent of his brother came closer and the other wolf gave a playful growl.

He softly barked back before curling up into a ball. He could feel the light of moon on his body and there was no need to move.

His brother nudged at him and he curled up tighter. The other wolf would do well to take a hint and go to sleep as well.

No such luck. A playful growl, a scrape of claws against the floor and two warm paws impacting into his body.

He growled back as they tussled on the ground; fun but also good practice.

* * *

Peter couldn't sleep. The latest case was a real annoyance. It involved lots of numbers and checking through accounts.

He would bet that the suspects kept multiple accounts everywhere just to create more for him and his team. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw monetary values floating before him.

El had kicked him out of bed and he decided to pay Neal a visit. It was late, but still the current day so, he didn't doubt that Neal was still up and engaged in nightly criminal associations.

In other words, he was probably hanging out with Mozzie and having a drink or five.

He was let in by one of the night maids and showed himself up to Neal's apartment. As he walked up the stairs, he could hear scratching and growls but figured that it was a TV or something.

Or the house settling. Did the creaks and groans of older houses really sound like whines and growls? He realised, feeling like a fool, that it could be Bugsy having a really realistic dream. Satchmo sometimes growled in his sleep too.

He amused himself with these thoughts as he climbed up to Neal's apartment. However, once he opened the door, his thought froze. Except for one; get out!

Good advice, if his legs were working and however many pounds of large black dog came tackling into him. The weight sent him smacking into the floor as sharp claws dug into his shoulder.

Hot, stinking breaths were huffed into his face as the wolf, as it was too large to be a dog, growled low in its stomach. Peter's eyes widened at the multitude of tearing teeth in his vision and closed his eyes as steaming saliva dripped onto his chin and neck.

He tried to shove the wolf off him, but it was too heavy. Absently, he wondered why a wolf was in Neal's apartment as he tried to pull strength into his arms.

Suddenly a quick and forceful growl sounded from further in Neal's apartment. Peter cursed as he realised that there was another one. It's padded feet clicked along the floor as it came towards them.

"Neal!" Peter called, wondering what happened to his friend. He hoped that he wasn't here and that he was somewhere safe but, he despaired that Neal might have been the first victim.

The second wolf growled again and the first wolf turned its head away from Peter to bark back. Another growl and the first wolf climbed off Peter, stalking away to the opposite side of the apartment.

The second wolf came forward, its head hanging a little as it paused before him. Peter pulled himself into a sitting position and examined it. It didn't seem interested in attacking him and had called the other wolf off; he immediately realised how impossible that seemed.

The wolf carefully came closer, watching him as much as he watched it. Peter watched, breathless, as he wondered what it was up to. Finally, it nudged its head against his hand.

A lot like Satchmo when he wanted a pat. Peter's hand automatically reacted and he stroked the coarse hair of the wolf.

It made a rumbling sound of contentment and lay down beside him as he ran his hair through its coat. He found himself growing less tense.

"He really does trust you," a male voice said, jarring compared to the wolf's content rumbles. Peter was certain the other wolf was standing where this man was now.

"Neal?" he questioned because the hard expression on the younger man's face was foreign to him.

He shook his head.

"Bryce," he corrected, pointing to himself. "That's Neal." He pointed to the wolf, baffling Peter.

"Uh, what?"

"Come on, this is your friend, you should tell him," Bryce said. It seemed like he was talking to the wolf and not Peter but it wasn't like the wolf could reply.

The wolf gave a huff and moved a step away from Peter. In a blink, there was no wolf. In its place was a shirtless Neal, lying along the ground and looking petulant.

Peter jolted back and his first coherent thought was the he was going crazy. Neal put his hands up in a 'no weapons' position.

"Peter, let me explain," he said.

"Oh no, there's no reasonable explanation for this. Unless you drugged me, did you drug me?" his voice grew impossibly high on that last word.

"I did not drug you," Neal said. Peter glanced over at Bryce and Neal responded before he could ask, "no, he didn't drug you either."

"Then, what is going on?" he demanded to know, standing up on shaky feet.

"Uh," Neal seemed lost for words and, any other night, Peter would have enjoyed the sight.

On the other side of the room Bryce sighed in frustration.

"We're werewolves," he said, "and, Neal, I know you don't like talking about it but, you better take the time to explain it right." And with that said, he shifted back into wolf form and stalked over to the bed.

"Should he be doing that?" Peter questioned as the wolf that was Bryce jumped onto the couch to doze off. Here he was, confronted with real proof of the existence of werewolves and all he could worry about was whether the wolves were allowed on the furniture.

"June has a good cleaner," Neal said. Peter glanced down at him and noticed that he seemed just as shocked as he was. At the very least, he was certain that the paleness of Neal's pallor had nothing to do with the moonlight.

"You hungry?" he questioned as he went to the fridge. Last time he had been here, he had left a few beers in there.

Neal shook his head.

"I wouldn't be able to keep anything down if I ate," he said as he nervously tapped his foot on the floor.

Peter grabbed his beer and then moved to sit at the table, keeping the wolf on the couch in sight. He couldn't go home as he didn't think he'd be able to sleep after this, so he might as well hear Neal's explanation.

* * *

"We were born this way," Neal explained, his hands moving to illustrate his words as he spun his tale. "You see, being a werewolf is something in the blood, it's hereditary. Our mother was one and our father wasn't. Ma had been warned about marrying outside the wolf lines but, she didn't listen and she married a cop. And then she had us, me and Bryce. She's never said as much but, we both know that she wished we took after our father more and were just ordinary humans.

"All the things the other werewolves told her about marrying outside the wolf lines, they came true. Our father left and she had nothing but two young werewolf children and a life she to rebuild from scratch. She rebuilt her life but, there was really no place for me and Bryce in it, even when she remarried; this time to a 'nice werewolf man'. Bryce left for college and I just left. I spent a lot of time in wolf form while travelling, it made roaming easier. When I was hungry, I could just hunt down something like, say, a rabbit and eat that. Oh, don't make that face, Peter, surely you've been hunting once or twice. It's like that but, without having to cook it.

"Anyway, I don't belong to a pack. June's son-in-law has been kind enough to extend the protection of his pack to me so I don't have any problems while staying here but I'm not a member of his pack, more like a client. Bryce belongs to a powerful pack, you might have heard of them; the CIA?" He smirked at the last bit as Peter's jaw dropped. Peter asked the obvious question and he answered, "no. The CIA isn't made up of werewolves. There are some but most are all human. However, you might be surprised to know that a lot of wolves end up in some kind of government work. Bryce has asked; they consider it as returning a debt since the government has been keeping werewolves a secret for generations.

"Yep, that's right. The government has been keeping the existence of werewolves a secret. And not just the US government, any government in any country where wolves make their homes, keep their existence a secret. Don't know why but, it has something to do with some kind of deal made centuries ago.

"So, that's basically it. Bryce and I are werewolves, we can take the form of a wolf whenever we like." Pause as Peter asked another question. "Oh, the full moon thing? Well, it fills us with energy and makes us twitchy. Less well trained wolves can also feel really itchy. And it doesn't stop unless you transform. What? No! I did not use my 'werewolf powers' to pull off any of my alleged heists! We don't even have 'werewolf powers', beyond the shifting thing."

* * *

What Neal didn't tell Peter was that ordinary humans were counted as pack if they met certain conditions. The first was that they cared for the werewolf, as a good friend or family, and the werewolf cared back. The second was that they knew they were a werewolf.

Peter met the first condition long ago, when they first started working together, maybe even earlier. It was why Neal's wolf didn't let Bryce's wolf tear him to pieces.

That night, Peter met the second condition and unknowingly became part of Neal's pack. They would later share this with Elizabeth and she would also become part of Neal's pack.

* * *

Neal and Bryce were brothers and blood related wolves. They weren't pack but something different. Bryce could protect Neal without it being interpreted as betraying the pack and Neal could seek Bryce without interference from his pack.

* * *

Bryce had a large pack, in name only. Most didn't pass the first condition. Some did. Chuck was first. Then Bryce grew closer to Orion as he grew distant from Chuck; ironically, they bonded over having to cut themselves off from Chuck because of the CIA. Later, surprising him, he connected with Sarah and she became part of his pack.

* * *

Orion and Sarah both knew he was werewolf because it was in his file. Chuck, however, found out on moonlit night.

* * *

Unlike Neal, who took to hiding his wolf from the world by not transforming, Bryce took to hiding it by transforming away from people.

He was rarely spotted and 'the wolf stalking Stanford' became an urban legend which no one really believed so they weren't really interested in wolf sightings. Chuck, however, set out one night on a dare to prove that the wolf existed. No one expected him to find the wolf, especially Bryce, who was going out that night. It was just a dare that meant Chuck would be cold and tired the next day and everyone would laugh afterwards.

Chuck set up camp at one of the tables and benches which were placed around the grounds. He had his books, his pens and a camping lamp he borrowed from Bryce to use for light. The night air was cold but, not to bothersome.

Until that night, Chuck hadn't believed in the Stanford wolf. But, partway through the night, when the moon was still rising, he heard a scuffling of leaves and spotted a pair of glowing eyes watching him. It gave him a heart attack and he froze on the spot as a very curious wolf walked out from the bushes and over to him. It snuffed at him and then curled up at his feet, under the table. Chuck didn't unfreeze for seven minutes; that's how long it took him realise that the wolf didn't mean him any harm.

He had thought he was done with surprises but then, the wolf shifted into a very nervous Bryce as the sun broke over the horizon.

* * *

This experience was one of the reasons why Chuck wasn't scared years and years later, after the Intersect and marrying Sarah, when a wolf appeared inside his house. He was surprised and wondered how the wolf got there but, he wasn't scared. Sarah had a gun pointed at it in moments, following Mary Bartowski's lead.

"Chuck, get away from it," Mary ordered in a calm voice.

"What?" Chuck questioned in confusion. He did the exact opposite, holding out his hand and petting the creature. He made sure to get close so that they couldn't shoot it.

"Chuck, that's probably a werewolf," Sarah explained.

"What?" Chuck questioned, surprised that Sarah knew about werewolves. Sarah incorrectly interpreted it as ignorance and disbelief.

"Werewolves exist," She explained, Mary nodding from her stance beside her.

"The CIA has been assisting in the hiding and protecting of werewolves," she explained to her son.

Chuck made an 'oh' face as he process this. He hadn't known about the CIA. But, he didn't get a chance to comment has his hand slid over something wet and sticky.

Blood.

"You're injured!" he gasped to the wolf, ignoring the guns pointed at him as he dropped down so that he was level with the creature's face. "What happened?"

"Chuck!" Mary warned and he shot her an angry look. He wasn't going to stand by while this creature needed help.

The wolf gave a whine that morphed into a groan as it shifted from wolf to injured man. Bryce winced as Chuck's hand pressed hard against his injured side.

"Some guy tried to stab me," he explained as calmly as he could. But, when he wasn't talking he was panting and his forehead was beaded with sweat. "His knife glanced my hip and I need a place to lie low for a while."

"I think it did more than 'glance'," Chuck commented, glancing back at his mother and wife. They had more experience with injuries on the job than he did.

"Chuck, you know this wolf?" Mary questioned as Chuck motioned her over. Bryce let out a high whine as she pressed her hand against his injury.

"We went to Stanford together," Chuck explained, "that's where I found out he was a werewolf." Once it was clear that Bryce didn't mean him any harm and he received answers to most of his questions, Chuck found it cool.

"Doesn't that mean that you knew before I did?" Sarah questioned Chuck in confusion, "you never mentioned it."

"Bryce made it clear that it was a secret," Chuck responded with a shrug.

"I might be able to stitch this up," Mary commented, "I'm going to need a first aid kit and a needle and thread."

Chuck went pale. He didn't need anyone to tell him what the needle and thread were for.

"You're going to stitch him up?" he said in surprise, his voice rising a little in horror. "Here? As in, without a hospital? Or without painkillers?"

"That's right," Mary responded, finding her son's antics overkill. Chuck and Bryce shared a look, one seeking permission and the other giving assurance.

"Get me a couple of panadol tablets?" Bryce commented with a confident smile, which was a shadowed with pain.

"I'll get you the whole box," Chuck responded, eager for any reason to leave. Thankfully, Bryce understood his reluctance to hang around and was okay with it.

* * *

After he was stitched up, Bryce fell asleep in human form and ended up shifting halfway through the night. While werewolves don't have fast healing, treated injuries sometimes vanish. The work Mary did on his wound, cleaning it up and stitching it up, allowed it to heal as he shifted. The skin was able to fuse and close the wound, leaving only a small scar.

By morning, Bryce was as good as new. Except his wolf form got tangled up in the sheets and couldn't get out. He growled and struggled and tried to tear the sheets with his claws and jaw but, he only managed to get even more tangled and even drop off the bed and onto the ground.

He yelped and twisted some more. It seemed to work, because the sheets began to move away. Bryce gripped the carpet with his claws as he tried to get his bearings. A sharp scent of something musky was behind him and something flowery from the direction where all the air flowed from, the exit.

They were both familiar, although aged scents, of pack. His long time friend placed a hand before his muzzle and then gave him a few strokes across his head and a welcome scratch behind his ear.

* * *

Neal was curled up on the Burke's couch, nursing a really bad stomach ache. Dogs didn't like chocolate and, apparently, you shouldn't feed wolves it either. It was all El's fault. She made lovely chocolate mousse for dessert and Neal had eaten all of it and then she wanted to see him in wolf form. It was like that time when he ate the raw fish while hunting as wolf and didn't give his stomach time to settle before shifting back to human form.

This time, he had done two quick shifts and his chocolate filled belly, instead of killing him or something, decided to make life unbearable instead.

He wasn't even aware of Peter until the other man's hand was pressed to his ear and making scratching motions. Tingles of good, happy feelings rushed through his body, easing the pain.

"Mmm." He forgot he was human for a moment; his mouth lolling open and his leg twitching as his happily arched up into the touch.

"-just like Satchmo," was all he caught but it was enough to send a wave of shame and anger through him and pull away.

"Aw, Neal. He didn't mean anything by it," El was quick to reassure him. A little too quick. He gave her a suspicious glance that told her he wasn't buying it.

Then, his face scrunched up as his stomach cramped painfully.

"Neal?" Peter questioned in a worried tone. Once it was over, Neal glared up at him. "Come on, you know you liked it. Consider it repayment for almost letting my wife poison you."

Despite the slight insult pointed towards her, El giggled. Three grown adults, two who owned a dog and another who was part-dog-family, and none of them thought that offering Neal chocolate before shifting would hurt him.

And Neal wasn't in any position to argue as another wave of pain rushed through his body.

"Fine," he whined. At least it made him feel better.


	5. CatCS - Cat Crime Solvers

**Cat Crime Solvers**

* * *

From KMW1968:

_ I have read a couple of "NCIS" stories in which Tony turns into a handsome cat (brown fur and green eyes in his case), and he is able to go undercover as a cat and wear a wire and/or a camera hidden in his collar. That would be a great idea for either cat-Bryce or cat-Neal. Think of the possibilities for surveillance work. What bad guy would suspect that Puss is conducting surveillance on him?_

_... I also kind of like the idea of Chuck, Sarah and/or Casey being rescued by cat-Bryce._

* * *

**Neal**

* * *

Peter thought it was the most ridiculous story he had ever heard. The idea that Neal was such a great thief that he stole the form of a cat from a witch was obviously fabricated as a way for Neal to brag about his skills.

Except he had told Neal to prove it moments after the story, forgetting the way Neal tended to rise up to challenges. Neal had smirked and stood up. To this day, Peter didn't know whether the twirl was for dramatic effect or part of whatever illusion it was but, Neal twisted around and his body seemed to compress in an instant.

And Peter found himself standing before a self-satisfied looking black cat. It licked it's paw and then started grooming its head in an adorable manner.

"I don't know how you're doing this, but it's obviously some kind of trick or something," Peter grumbled as his wife cooed over the 'adorable kitty'.

The cat curled into a ball and sprang up, growing larger in an instant; another motion which Peter didn't know whether it was for dramatic effect or not.

And Peter was once again standing before a smirking Neal Caffrey.

* * *

Thankfully, whatever it was that allowed Neal to turn into a cat also changed the anklet into a collar since, now that Peter knew, Neal spent lots of time around him as a cat. It was good for afternoons watching the game with a warm and purring critter on his lap but it wasn't so good for when Neal wanted to skip out on a scolding.

It was really difficult to scold a cat. For one thing, Peter kept having too look down at him. For another, it made Peter feel like a crazy person.

"Neal," Peter hissed in an angry tone, "this is a terrible idea!" Neal huffed and turned away, wiggling his tail in Peter's face before curling up to sleep. Peter groaned in frustration.

"What's going on?" El asked walking in a moment later. She had heard Peter talking from the entrance and guessed that Neal was in cat-form again.

"We can't get eyes on Barelli's newest operation so Neal wants to go in."

"Well, what's the problem with that?" El asked.

"He wants to go in as a cat and have us hook up a camera to his collar." Peter saw that El didn't understand so he added, "it's dangerous and the FBI doesn't have that kind of equipment!"

"Oh."

"But, did that stop him? No! Now he just wants us to wire him while he's a cat! There's no telling what Barelli will think!"

"Well, you said that he likes dogs, maybe he likes cats as well?" El suggested in a reasonable tone. Neal yowled in agreement.

"There's no guarantee!" Peter said. El smiled.

"I guess you'll have to watch over him," she suggested.

"I'd rather feed him to Satchmo," Peter grumbled in defeat. To cheer him up, Neal jumped and climbed up to rest on his shoulder.

* * *

** Bryce**

* * *

It had been a while since he had used this power. But, Chuck and Sarah were in danger and he and Casey were trapped in a cell with metal bars keeping them from helping.

"Last time I'll ask, where are the plans?" the woman known as Mistress Rowena asked. She was the one people hired to 'acquire' things that they wanted, be it information or objects, and she took great pleasure in forcing people to give their things up.

Casey tried using brute strength on the bar to no avail. He cursed and yelled insulting things at Rowena and at Chuck, for getting caught. However, Rowena paid him no mind. She turned on the electrical device she was going to use to torture Chuck.

There was no way Bryce was going to let this happen. He spun and compressed, using the power he shared with his twin, granting himself the form of a black cat. He squeezed his way through the bars, ignoring Casey's exclamation at his transformation.

He felt compressed like a spring, coiled with energy and ready to spring. And spring he did; across the floor and up onto Chuck's lap before jumping onto Rowena's chest and clambering up to her head. He made sure his claws dragged across her body and face and his tail swept across her body.

She screamed.

"Blasted cat! Where did you come from?" She stumbled around, trying to shake him off.

Bryce jumped from her body and to the ground, transforming back before she realised and clocking her across the jaw.

"Bryce?" Sarah questioned in surprise. He turned to her and smiled before turning to Chuck and cutting his hands and legs free.

"Nice one," Chuck said, as if turning into a cat was the most normal thing in the world. Bryce laughed in response as Chuck moved to free Sarah.

"Still trapped over here," Casey called out in a growl from behind the bars.


	6. RC3 – Two Fills

**RC3 – Two Fills**

* * *

From KeJae:

_Just had a thought...what if Neal figured out a method to hide his CC nature in front of the team, but what if Peter was kidnapped and Neal turned cat to rescue/give him company? After all what average kidnapper would be concerned if a random black cat had a tendency to wander into an abandoned building and curl up with their prisoner?_

* * *

From Brycelarkin32 on AO3:

_ Now that you have neal. Maybe lets see what kind of hell bryce can cook up for casey. But in the end he get a good belly scratching_

* * *

**Neal**

* * *

Neal's watch beeped, loud and piercing. It rang through the conference room and drew every eye to him.

Neal was sluggish as he went to switch it off, he tried to hide it but Jones noticed.

"Go home, Neal," he said in an authoritative tone.

"No," Neal responded, rubbing his face to wake himself up.

"We can do this without you," Jones pointed out. Neal gave him a look that asked, 'really?' because they had been working on this all day and now late until the night with no success.

"Neal, we need you rested up for when we have a plan ready to go," Diana pointed out in a kind tone. She knew how hard Neal had been working, trying to find a way through Thad Rojas' defences. The man had kidnapped Peter and locked him up somewhere in his house, which was more like a fortress. Until they could confirm where Peter was and find a way in which wouldn't put him at risk, they wouldn't be allowed to move.

Neal gave in to Diana's gentle prodding. Or so it appeared. The watch alarm was there to inform him to take another shot.

Neal was one of five hundred CCs taking part in a new trial to test a drug which suppressed their inhuman features. So far, it had worked without any side-effects. The only downside was that he needed to inject himself with it every twelve hours and while the drug was in his system, he couldn't turn into his animal form.

His animal form. Neal paused and dropped the syringe back into it's container. There was a way he could get to Peter without Thad's interference. Better yet, he would be able to protect Peter if need be.

Neal dropped the container back into it's place in his desk, grabbed his hat and left.

The drug wore off partway there. The moment he felt he could, he transformed into the black cat form he had possessed since birth.

* * *

Peter tugged and the chains and sighed. Neal would have been able to get out in an instant but him, the law abiding FBI agent, was stuck. Chained to a chair in a stone wall, iron bars keeping him in even if he managed to unlock the chains, Peter thought Thad Rojas was taking the 'evil villain' thing a little too far.

"Mew!"

Peter froze. Was that a cat crying?

"Meow?" Again. He squinted and leaned forward as much as he could, not that it changed what he could see.

However, he didn't have to wait long before a black cat with bright blue eyes walked into view.

"Me!" It cried out happily, bouncing through the bars and over to Peter.

Now that he thought about it, this cat look familiar...

"Neal?"

And then Neal was standing before him, looking like the cat that got the cream. And he was back to having fuzzy cat-ears instead of human ones, something Peter found unnerving.

"Peter!" he cheered quietly, "you're okay?"

"Neal?" he questioned again, afraid that this was an illusion. Of course, his head wasn't that creative even if he had seen Neal turn into a cat before. "I'm fine but, what are you doing here?"

"Jones and Diana are trying to find a way in," Neal said and he pointed at his tracker; the light was blinking red. "They should be here soon."

Peter sighed. He needed to have a talk with Jones and Diana about making sure Neal didn't do stupid things.

"What happened to your shots?" he questioned, eyeing Neal's tail as it swished through the air.

"Please don't call them that," Neal grumbled, "and I may have 'forgotten' to take my last one." He jumped as there was a bang and Peter was staring at a cat once again.

"What the?" Thad growled as he stared at Peter and the cat. "How'd that get in here?"

"Don't ask me," Peter responded in an unhelpful manner. Thad snorted, taunted him about how the FBI knew he had him but were unable to do anything about it and then stalked off.

"Did he seriously just come down here to gloat?" Neal questioned, transforming back. He crinkled his nose. "That's so tacky."

"Well, you can tell him that after we arrest him," Peter pointed out. He sounded grumpy but, inside, he was amused.

* * *

** Bryce**

* * *

Casey was going to shoot whoever thought of this idea. Or maybe he could blame Morgan, who left him with Bryce the cat in order to deal with a 'customer emergency'.

"_'Let's test a Critter Chunk's ability by monitoring one while transformed'_," he grumbled to himself as he cocked his gun. He then pointed it at the cat sitting on his laptop's keyboard. "Get off, Larkin."

Bryce opened on sleepy blue eye, looked at him and then yawned before going back to sleep. Casey huffed and holstered his gun. It looked like he wasn't going to get any reports typed up today.

He decided to spend some time in the training room since he had been neglecting his hand-to-hand combat lately anyway. He did a few movements before something made a noise behind him. He stepped on something thin and fuzzy and warm, which yowled and caused him to jump.

It was Bryce. Once Casey's heartbeat slowed from 'rapid' to 'fast', he gave the cat his most displeased glare. It didn't seem to faze him at all.

"Stupid cat," Casey grumbled, getting out his phone to call Chuck. As if to show him that he was not stupid, Bryce climbed up the frames they displayed and stored their weapons on and then jumped on Casey's shoulder. "GAH! He's on me! Chuck!"

On the other end of the phone, Chuck laughed.

"Sounds like he likes you," he said and then hung up. Casey growled and thought wistfully of the days when Chuck feared him.

"Bad cat!" Casey bellowed, grabbing the creature around the middle. Bryce yowled and wiggled and flayed wildly. Casey dropped him on the ground, carefully, by kneeling so that they were both close to the ground. It took a few moments for Bryce to realise that he was safe, after which he batted his head into Casey's hand. Casey made an inquiring grunt.

Bryce batted his head into Casey's hand again. Then dragged his body across it.

Casey sighed. Obviously, the stupid cat wanted to be petted. So, he ran his hand along the warm creature, hoping this would be enough to calm it down.

Bryce purred, a rumbling sound which vibrated through his tiny body. He dropped to the ground and let Casey scratch at his belly.

"When you change back, we're never speaking of this again," Casey grumbled.


	7. CHDPY - Child's Play

**CHDPY - Child's Play**

* * *

From ocgirl on AO3:

_Also, not sure if you are into it, but I was thinking two de-aged Caffrey/Larkin would be hilarious. A bit less for Peter/Diana or Chuck/Sarah though._

* * *

Two little faces stared up at him in awe, tiny mouths forming an 'o'. Their messy dark hair waved across their foreheads in a mischievous manner and their blue eyes almost seemed to sparkle.

"How did this happen?" Peter asked, turning to Chuck. The CIA agent shrugged, eye never leaving the small humans at their feet.

"Hey, mister!" one of them, Peter had no idea whether it was Neal or Bryce, called out as he tugged at Peter's trousers. "Have you ever shot someone?"

Peter shot a silent plea for help at Diana and then Chuck. Diana just turned away to hid her giggles while Chuck moved forward and knelt before the boys.

"Okay, names," he said, pointing at one of them.

"I'm Danny!" he said, flinging his arms up like it was a declaration. "What's your name?"

"Chuck," Chuck responded. He turned to the other one, who was still attached to Peter. "And let me guess... your name is Bryce?"

Bryce let go of Peter and turned to Chuck in awe.

"Wow! How'd you know that?" he asked, toddling over to place his hand on Chuck's knee.

"Magic," Chuck responded, "would you like to see a trick?"

Both of the young boys smiled and nodded, crying out that they would. Chuck reached out and pulled a quarter from behind Bryce's ear. They both stared at him in amazement and reached for the coin.

"It's mine!" Bryce said, turning on Neal the moment their hands touched.

"Nah-uh, fasted one gets it!"

"He pull it from my ears!" Bryce was quick to point out. Chuck froze like a deer in headlights.

Diana was quick to leave now that it looked like a fight was going to break out. Sarah watched wistfully as she left.

"Stop it, Neal," Peter ordered, stepping towards the boys. Neal froze and turned to stare at him.

"How'd you know that name?" he questioned, the coin forgotten. "No ones supposed to use it no mores. I'm Danny now."

"I'm Bryce!" Bryce added, happily.

Peter froze, again. In truth, he had only intervened because he couldn't stand by and watch a fight break out, even if it was between two kids. Now that the fight had calmed down, he had no idea what to do.

Jones came in that moment and lifted a squealing Neal up.

"Let's just take ours and leave the spooks with theirs," he suggested.

"There's a problem with that," Sarah pointed out as Neal started wailing and crying and Bryce began kicking Jones in the legs.

"Let him go! Let him go!" he chanted.

"Okay, okay," Jones said, moving to place Neal on the ground. Peter spotted the way Neal's legs wriggled and his gut feeling flared up.

"Wait!" he tried to warn Jones but was too late. The moment Neal was safely on the ground, he bolted with Bryce following behind him.

* * *

Bryce and Neal ran. They had no idea how they came to be with these strangers or where their mother or Aunt Ellen were. But, when the stern adult picked Neal up, they realised that they might be in real danger. Even though the other two adults were nice. The magician adult was interesting while the quiet adult was kind.

"Box!" Bryce pointed out. There was a box sitting in the hall they had run into. They shared a look and Neal nodded. Bryce curled up on the floor and Neal upturned the box over them.

There. They were hidden and no one would find them.

* * *

Peter and Chuck lost sight of the boys around one of the corners.

"Someone find them!" Peter ordered and the agents, except Diana and Jones, scattered. "Tell me how this happened?" he asked them.

"How Neal and Bryce got away or how they ended up as four year olds?" Jones asked for clarification which annoyed Peter.

"Just tell me," Peter groaned, running his hands through his hair. The FBI office was not a safe place for children, he knew this. But it wasn't supposed to be, because children weren't supposed to be here unsupervised.

"Well, remember that drug they were injected with during the last case?" Jones went on without waiting for an answer, "it appears that may be the cause. It's an experimental drug which was designed to rapidly regenerate cells. It's taken almost a day to show an effect."

"I told Neal to go to a hospital and get checked out," Peter grumbled. If they had caught this early, he believed they might have been able to stop Neal from becoming a mini-Neal.

"Bright side, it's probably temporary," Diana said, "the research notes state that the chemicals leave the subject's body after 72 hours."

"That doesn't really explain why they don't remember being adults," Chuck pointed out.

"Maybe their young brains can't process their adult memories?" Jones suggested.

"This really doesn't help find them," Peter pointed out, storming down the hall. He paused when he spotted a box lying on the ground inside one of the rooms. "Block the door," he told Chuck, moving inside.

Chuck curiously glanced in and spotted the way the box seemed to shudder with movement. Peter crept towards the box and Chuck smirked at the image it presented; it looked like a father playing with his sons.

"Ah-hah!" Peter cried as he lifted the box and revealed the squealing twins. Bryce bolted for the door, which Chuck blocked, and Peter grabbed Neal's arm and held him still. "No more running," he told the little kid.

"Let me go!" Neal wailed back.

"No," Peter responded reasonably, "Neal, do you know where you are?"

"Don't call me that!" Neal whined.

"I want mummy!" Bryce cried, tears pooling in his eyes and Chuck picked him up and bounced him to calm him down.

"This is the White Collar office for the FBI," Peter explained. Neal perked up at the word 'FBI'. "Children aren't to run around in here. Now, we're going to take you and your brother to the conference room and give you some paper and pens to colour with. You're not to leave the room, do you understand me? There are people working."

Neal nodded and Bryce nodded.

"Do you catch bad men?" Neal questioned, suddenly happy. The way their emotions seemed to bounce all over the place was enough to make Peter tired. "My daddy catch bad men, that's what mummy told me." Neal talked all the way to the conference room.

* * *

Peter was resting his head on his desk when Jones walked in, carrying a blue coloured Neal in his arms.

"What happened?" he sighed, taking Neal from his agent. He ignored the way Neal was rubbing his blue stained hands all over his shirt and made a mental note to get the older version to pay for the dry cleaning.

"Caught him chewing on a pen," Jones explained, "it looks like it exploded in his mouth."

Peter cursed and tried to remember if the pens around the office were non-toxic. Was he supposed to take Neal to the hospital?

Neal giggled and blew bubbles which were stained blue from the ink in and around his mouth.

"I think Analise in accounting carries wet wipes," Jones said, "I'll ask if we can borrow them."

"Get the box!" Peter called after him.

* * *

"I think he's kind of cute like this," Morgan said as Chuck presented the young Bryce to him.

"Can you babysit?" Chuck said in a begging tone.

"Sure, buddy," Morgan responded, eager to please.

"Thank you!" Chuck said, taking a break so that he could eat lunch. It would be nice to do something without someone toddling up behind him and asking 'why?'.

Morgan stared at the young Bryce and wondered why everyone was avoiding this room. The poor kid was sitting on the floor in the corner with a thick marker in hand and scrawling over a page. He looked like a picture of loneliness.

"Are you the guy Agent Carmichael called in?" Peter asked as he walked through the door with another child in his arms.

"That's right, Michael Carmichael, at your service!" Morgan said, eyeing the badge clipped to Peter's belt.

"Good. Take him," Peter ordered passing the child to him. Morgan bulked under his weight. Who knew that four year olds could be so heavy? "Don't let him out of your sight."

Neal smiled up at Morgan and repeated the swear word Peter said earlier.

"Uh..." Morgan questioned, dumbfounded. Peter just blushed and exited the room quickly. Morgan watched him go and then turned back to the child in his arms. "You know you're not supposed to say things like that, right?"

"I want Bryce," Neal said, completely ignoring what Morgan just told him. He wriggled so Morgan would put him down and then walked over to his brother, who had moved from scribbling on the page to scribbling onto the wall.

"Oh, no!" Morgan cried, rushing over to pull the children away from the wall.

* * *

Mozzie was standing at the entrance to the White Collar office. This was serious business and required his presence.

"Mozzie?" Diana questioned, "what are you doing here?"

"The Suit called," Mozzie said, "something about a young Neal and the guys from yesterday?"

"Yeah," Diana confirmed, "Neal and one of the agents from the other office were turned into four year olds. We've got them in the conference room where one of the agents is watching them."

Mozzie was appalled.

"You're letting some stranger-suit look after Neal? Are you insane?" Someone had to fix this so, he walked up towards the baby prison that the agents called a conference room and stormed in with the Suit behind him. Yeah, he stopped to yell at Peter for letting some stranger-suit babysit Neal when Neal had him.

"...And then Carmichael, seeing that the bomb was about to go off, uses his computer fixing skills acquired at Buy More Base, and loads the computer-killer website. The computer-killer website destroys the bomb and Carmichael saves the day!" Morgan cheered, finishing the story about what happened when Chuck first acquired the Intersect. Neal and Bryce cheered and clapped from where they were seated on the floor in front of Morgan while Morgan noticed Mozzie and Peter standing at the door. "Next time, I'll tell you about how Carmichael's brother, Michael Carmichael, uncovered a plot to destroy Buy More Base and found out about Carmichael secret job saving the world."

Peter gave Mozzie a worried glance, afraid that he would start ranting about something.

"You shouldn't tell children stories like that!" Mozzie said, true to Peter's prediction, "you should tell them about things like how the moon landing was faked and teach them to look beyond the teachings of 'the Man', not about fake 'heroes' who 'save the world'."

"Hey, my story totally happened," Morgan said and then paused as he realised, "wait, I wasn't supposed to say that."

"Ah-hah! A government cover up!" Mozzie countered and then also realised something, "were you telling them about the true events surrounding a government cover up?"

Morgan looked confused for a moment and then just decided to go with it.

"I guess."

"I approve," Mozzie decreed. Peter glanced between them as he wondered what had just happened. He hadn't followed any of that.

* * *

"What happened to the wall?" Peter questioned, glaring at the two boys. They pointed to each other and then to Morgan.

"Hey, it wasn't my fault," Morgan said, "baby Bryce was doing that when I came in."

"Not a baby!" Bryce countered with an angry stamp of his foot.

"Okay!" Peter said, ready to end this day. "I think it's nap time." Thankfully, he had sent Jones and Diana out to find some blankets and pillows and they came back successfully.

* * *

Neal's mouth dropped open. Beside him, Bryce had a similar surprised expression.

"That did not happen," Neal said, shaking his head. Bryce turned to Chuck, hoping he would back them up.

"Sorry man," Chuck said, rubbing his tired eyes. "It happened."

"I have pictures!" Morgan pointed out in a helpful manner as he pulled out his phone. "Baby Bryce was so adorable and they make great blackmail."

"'Baby Bryce'?" Neal questioned with a smirk.

"Not a baby!" Bryce quickly countered, his face flush with embarrassment.


	8. RC4 – Mozzie's story

**RC4 – Mozzie's story**

* * *

From KMW1968:

_Something I would be interested in reading about in the "Rare Critters" series would be Mozzie's reaction. Does he already know Neal's secret, or does he find out in the course of one of the stories? How does he react?_

* * *

There were stories, rumours, the 'I know a guy who knows a guy who's a CC' but Mozzie never really bought into it. The idea that someone could be born with such a condition and not made that way through some kind of evil government experiment was crazy.

He never really thought Neal would be the kind of person to buy into that nonsense. But the way Neal seemed to radiate tension and the offhand comments he made whenever someone brought the subject up seemed to suggest that he was a lot more interested than he let on. And Mozzie tested; he brought the subject up with Neal a few times.

"Mozzie, I'm a CC," Neal admitted one day when he refused to get out of bed. He had been off the past few days but Mozzie put it down to fighting off some kind of brainwashing bug after being around a Fed.

"You're a what?" Mozzie questioned, wondering if he had heard right. Neal curled up under the covers. His head was stuffed under his pillow and the hands gripping it were almost white from tension.

"I'm a CC. A Critter Chunk," Neal said, "and I think the drugs I use to suppress my condition are losing effectiveness."

"What does that mean?"

"We'll have to cancel the long con on Adler." At Mozzie's indignant cry, he explained, "I can't go in after this, they'd notice the change."

"What change?" Mozzie insisted; there was no way they could stop right now, he had invested too much time and money so they could do this.

"The ears… and tail," Neal didn't sound happy about it, "I'll have to take measures to hide them and they'll notice the change in my attitude."

Mozzie didn't know whether or not to believe him however, he would help Neal out so they could finish their con and then do some more research into CCs. If Neal needed to feel like he wasn't about to turn into an animal; human-animal? Mozzie wasn't sure of the specifics, then Mozzie would do whatever was needed to make Neal feel better.

It took him a while to track down the chemist who owed him a favour.

"A CC, Mozzie? Thar's something I didn't see you gettin' involved with," the chemist said. Contrary to the roughness of his accent, he was a thin and pale person who spent most of his time indoors and traded drugs for information and favours.

"Please don't humour me," Mozzie said, "if he believes he needs this, then I'll get it for him, we're in the middle of a big job."

The chemist shook his head.

"Mozzie, the CCs are real. They say it's a result of experiments conducted during the wars to create people with animalistic abilities. What they got was a bunch of shapeshifters with animalistic features, useless for fighting."

Mozzie made an interested noise. That certainly explained it. The government was always looking to hide the past behind rumour and smokescreen. He wondered if Neal himself knew the dark place his curse had come from.

"Well, I need something to stop the features," he demanded. The chemist handed him a drug which would help and told him to come back in a month for more.

Within a day, the long con on Adler was back in business.

* * *

Mozzie had spent ages searching for Neal. No one seemed to know anything and those that did weren't talking. He managed to get the story out of one guy, in a bunch of hypotheticals and misdirections. Neal had been taken by one group only to be stolen by another.

Mozzie started to lose heart when the rat said that he would have a better chance talking to the guys behind bars. It meant that the first group was probably arrested. It took Mozzie half an hour to realise he had people in law enforcement who could assist him.

The Suit did lose Neal, it would only be right for him to help find him.

* * *

Mozzie walked into Neal's apartment without knocking. Neal, sitting at the table, hissed in surprise. Two black, fuzzy things on Neal's head pricked up and a something dark around his legs flicked out.

"Moz!" Neal cried in surprise, his hands flinching up to cover his ears. The tail curled protectively around his body.

"You look like a crazy person," Mozzie said. It was good to see that Neal was alive and all but, "how are you supposed to con people, looking like that?"

"Charm?" Neal questioned with a twitch of a smile.

"And why did the Suit have to tell me that you were back and safe? And why did I have to call said Suit in order to get the information that you were safe and sound?"

Neal didn't have a response for that. Instead, he sighed and pulled out his hat and placed it on his head so that it covered his ears. He then tucked the tail into his pants where it was hidden.

"Better?" he asked and Mozzie found himself nodding. "There are rules that state I must hide my ears and tail in public at all times."

"Rules of the establishment created in order to keep your existence hidden," Mozzie mumbled in protest, although he was grateful that Neal hid them. Maybe he would get used to them in time but, right now, Neal's animal features were too much.


	9. ASNG - A Strange Night

**A Strange Night**

* * *

From Anon on AO3:

_If you have time, could you do an AU of this werewolf thing, were Neal reveals himself as a werewolf when Peter is undercover for a case? Peter gets into trouble, there is fight, and this wolf comes out of nowhere and saves him._

**Notes**: Probably not what Anon was looking for...

* * *

Peter didn't like these odds. Four gunmen and Central Park at night were a bad combination. They were just jumpy enough that announcing he was a federal agent would probably get him shot.

"Look, think this over," he said, trying to talk them down.

"Hand over your wallet!" the leader of the group ordered. Peter bit back a sigh and did as they asked; slowly, carefully and making sure they could see his hands at every step.

At least the wallet only contained the details for his alias; Jim Green. The moment they used any of the information in it, the FBI would be on their doorstep.

Peter bent over and placed the wallet on the ground. Then he raised his hands and stepped away from it. One of the gunmen moved forward and picked up the wallet. He searched it but didn't seem to find whatever he was looking for. The fifteen dollars Peter had been carrying were passed to the leader who pocketed the money and then levelled his gun at Peter's chest.

"You think we're fools?" he questioned in an offended tone. His finger twitched on the trigger. He didn't say anything more as there was a howl and a snarl.

A dark shape bounced out from the trees and clamped onto the leader's arm. The leader howled as the shape dropped off him and moved to the next gunman and the next and the next until they were either rolling across the ground in pain and fear or bolted off into the darkness.

The dark figure, which Peter now realised was a wolf, paused in the middle of the chaos and turned its bright grey eyes to him. It slowly padded its way towards him and Peter swallowed and stilled.

"Peter!" Jones called a moment later. The wolf paused at his voice and then glanced away, its body tensing up. Peter didn't like that at all.

"Shush," he crooned, kneeling. He held out his arms, trying to show that he wasn't a threat. He had spent vacation time around his grandpappy's farm when younger and realised that this wolf wasn't much bigger than his grandpappy's working dogs.

It seemed almost frightened of him with its head low and its tail weakly wagging. Peter made a 'come hither' motion and it started walking towards him. It was in his arms a moment before Jones came bursting onto the scene.

"Peter!" Jones said in relief. Then he noticed the two gunmen bleeding on the ground. "Get some EMTs here!"

"What are you doing out of the van?" Peter questioned in an order, "what if Walton saw you?"

"Walton's probably out cementing his alibi right now," Jones muttered in a disgusted tone, "Diana caught a blip on a few of his aliases' accounts. Took us a while to figure out that he was paying for a hit."

"Walton hired those men?" Peter questioned, suddenly very glad that the wolf appeared. If it hadn't, he would have been in a lot of trouble. He rubbed the wolf's belly.

"Yeah," Jones responded slowly, "so, what's with the dog?"

"Wolf," Peter corrected, "it attacked those men."

"Ah." Jones took a few steps away. Peter snorted. Now that he was petting it, the wolf seemed calm. It was probably someone's illegal pet or something.

"I'll take him home," Peter explained, "Satch can handle the company for one night and I'll find out where he came from tomorrow."

Jones sighed as he and Diana would probably do the heavy lifting trying to figure out who was missing a wolf. He was not impressed with any fool who would have a wolf for a pet.

* * *

The wolf was a calm creature from the moment he walked into the Burke house. El was a little worried about the large creature but, he managed to wiggle his way into her heart with what Peter liked to call sympathy glances. Satchmo even liked him. They were curled up together when Mozzie came bursting through the back door.

"Suit! It's an emergency!" he said, "a travesty, a danger!" Peter sighed as he explained, "I've lost my, uh, dog!"

"Your dog?" Peter questioned. He knew that Mozzie didn't have a dog.

"Suit! That isn't important!" Peter stared at him. "Okay! So, he's not really a dog." Now Peter hadn't expected that but, something told him he should have.

"More like a wolf?" he questioned, pointing to where the wolf and Satchmo were curled up.

Mozzie looked at the wolf and then collapsed into the armchair with a long-suffering groan.

"Of course he ran to the Suit's house! And here was I, searching Central Park," he cursed. The wolf glanced up at him and snorted.

"Well, he saved my life," Peter pointed out, reasonably.

"Right!" Mozzie stood up. "I'm taking him home."

"Unfortunately, I can't just hand him over to you," Peter said, moving to stand between the wolf and Mozzie.

"Feds," Mozzie snorted. He thought about his next move before saying, "you might want to watch him. He'll surprise you in the morning."

Peter gave the short man a confused look as he left.

"What do you think he meant by that?" El asked, giving the wolf a curious glance.

* * *

Morning came and Peter sat with his coffee and paper in the wee hours of the morning as he watched the wolf. Nothing had happened during the night but, El had been so interested in Mozzie's parting words that she woke up before sunrise in order to see what would happen. And Peter wasn't going to leave her alone in a room with a wolf, not matter how friendly the wolf seemed.

The sun rose and the wolf seemed to flinch. Peter's coffee cup shattered and coffee splattered across the ground.

"Hi Peter," Neal said, flashing a smile which appeared sharper than usual. "Can I borrow some clothes?"

"Werewolf?" El questioned with an interested smile once Neal went upstairs to raid his clothes stored in the spare room.

"No way." And when Neal came back down, thankfully dressed, Peter added, "this never happened."

Still, he spent most of the day researching werewolves. And knowing he could probably threaten Neal with a silver spoon the next time he did something stupid was a nice thought.


	10. WHSA - What Happens in the Safe House

**What Happens in the Safe House**

* * *

From KeJae:

_I read this through a couple of times... I am more accustomed to the idea of werewolves so I found a lot amusing:) My mind kept wandering and playing with the idea of Peter having a case go wrong leaving him lost in the woods so Neal goes wolf to get him back to safety, or EL is taken and ends up in the woods but Neal disappears and goes wolf to track her down and walk her back safely. (I kept thinking it through with them knowing, not knowing, and perhaps something like that being how the teams discovers?)_

* * *

Her last check in had been hours ago. She should have arrived by now. That was going through Peter's head over and over again as he paced the planked floor of the cottage safe house.

"I should be out there!" he exclaimed, banging his hand on the counter. He had been threatened, him! Not her. But, the FBI and Mozzie had all thought it best to put him and El in a safe house away from the city until it was safe.

"Do you want me to go search?" Neal questioned, his blue eyes almost glowing in the twilight. Peter felt a shiver go down his spine. It wasn't often Neal felt dangerous but Peter knew about the secrets the conman was hiding.

Neal Caffrey was a disguise, a ruse and a trick. Neal's real name was unpronounceable with a human mouth and tongue. As he had jokingly said to Peter once, "Satchmo would pronounce it better than you." Which was true. The sounds required a snout, a lolling tongue and an instinctive knowledge of canine communication.

Neal was really a werewolf, an unlucky one whose mother had gone into labour on the night of the full moon and given birth in wolf form to wolf pups.

Of the three pups, only two survived. Which was two more than expected. The first shift was always the hardest and shifting hours after birth was enough to kill even a healthy child.

Their mother was kicked out of her pack when it was discovered that her children were a little bit different. Neal wasn't colour-blind like the rest of the werewolves and Bryce was immune to the regular werewolf weaknesses, like silver, which made him almost indestructible.

Peter hesitated to send Neal out into danger.

"Five more minutes," he promised. Neal itched to run, he could see that. This time, it wasn't itching to run away but to run to someone.

With the slow ticking of the clock, time passed slowly. They waiting, perking up at the the slightest crunch of gravel from outside.

Still, waiting.

"It's been five minutes," Neal finally announced with a wild glint to his eye.

"Go," Peter ordered.

Neal moved, shifting into the form of a large black wolf. His blue eyes scanned Peter as he attached the tracker collar to his neck.

Finally, he ran.

* * *

Elizabeth stumbled through the forest. Her breathing harsh. Her eyes stinging. Her body wanting rest. Her thoughts screaming at her to keep going or else.

Or else. Her eyes pricked at the thought of the marshal assigned to guard her. It had only taken one shot through the chest to kill him.

One shot to end a life. It had almost been her life.

Why? Why was this happening? The driver was a thug, hired to kill her.

"This'll show Burke," he laughed as he aimed the gun. He hadn't expected her to yank at it and ram his head into the headrest of the car. He hadn't expected her to bolt out the door either with the marshal behind her. The driver managed to get out and fire the shot which ended the marshal's life.

Elizabeth kept running. She felt horrible but she needed to stay alive. For Peter.

She stumbled. Sticks and leaves stingingly poked into her hands. They scraped her face and her dress.

Someone took a step nearby.

She clenched her hands, stood up and kept going. There was a howl in the distance and her heart plummeted. She hadn't know there were wolves in this area.

"Where's the safe house?" she asked herself, almost begging her unconscious mind to remember. She saw nothing but trees and plants and leaves. Biting back tears, she continued moving.

And then she heard a low scream of pain. It howled out over the area, along with an animalistic snarl.

Again and the again the scream echoed. It was haunting and made her shiver in fear. She dropped to the ground again, her legs refusing to move. She didn't want to die but she couldn't find the strength to stand.

She froze as padding feet sounded nearby. A crazy thought went through her head as she wondered when it had grown so dark.

Her breath caught as a sleek, black wolf seemed to appear out of the darkness. Its blue eyes were like ice as it came closer. Flakes of something dark decorated its muzzle; she really hoped it wasn't blood.

She winced as it sniffed her and, a moment later, a hand rested softly on her leg.

"You're okay," Neal's soft voice crooned and her eyes snapped open to meet his blue ones.

"What?" she questioned, "how?"

Neal snickered and she frowned.

"It's not funny!" she scolded, "where were you? Where's Peter?"

"Peter's at the safe house, where you should be," Neal said seriously as he recalled the reason he was out here. "Now, I need you to trust me and follow the wolf."

"What?" Neal didn't respond as, before her eyes, he changed into the black wolf. It nudged her up to her feet and supported her as they walked towards the safe house.

* * *

"A werewolf?" Elizabeth questioned, wondering if her husband had been working too hard.

"Oh, I know that look," Neal commented, "that's the 'I don't believe this look'." When Peter just glared at him, he added, "trust me, I know. I've seen it many times."

"Many times?" Elizabeth asked. Neal just shrugged.

"I've told a few people. Mozzie had the same expression. He believes in government conspiracies but not supernatural ones."

"And Peter?" Elizabeth looked at the man in question who shifted nervously.

"You don't need to know that," Peter said, embarrassed.

Elizabeth nodded and then looked to Neal. There was certainly a story there.

"Oh, one of the criminals we caught was also a werewolf. He shifted during interrogation and tried to kill Peter. I shifted and saved him."

"And we spent weeks wading through paperwork for the cover-up which followed," Peter sighed.

"Was that during all those late-nights when you and Neal ate in the office?"

"No, that was the time he cancelled on the lunch."

"Neal!"

"What? They wouldn't let you leave until you finished reading and filling out forms and you had to cancel."

Peter groaned and placed his head in his hands, right as his phone rang.

"Hello?" Elizabeth and Neal watched on as he listened to the person on the other end. "Yeah, yeah." Peter cast a suspicious look at Neal. "Really? That's good. I'm sure they'll enjoy this."

"What?" Elizabeth and Neal asked in unison.

"They found the man who attacked. He was bleeding and volunteered information about the person after us in return for a hospital."

"Really?" Neal questioned, "I thought you couldn't do that; withhold medical support to those who need it?"

"We can't. But, no one told him that. He's currently telling us everything we need to know to take this guy down." Peter paused and then looked at Neal. "Any idea how he ended up injured?"

Neal shrugged and they all knew he wouldn't respond with an affirmative or negative.

"So, we only need to stay the night," Peter continued. This news was met with two happy sighs.

Elizabeth didn't like putting her work on hold to hide in government safe houses.

Neal didn't like being cooped up inside.


	11. CatCS - More cat ones

**Notes: **Just a reminder, you are free to write your own continuations of these stories – just place a disclaimer stating that you have borrowed an idea from one of these stories and send me a link because I would like to read it.

* * *

**More cat ones**

* * *

From KMW1968:

_What I had in mind when I gave you the prompt was a story in which Neal (or Bryce) actually did go undercover as a cat._

_…but what about Diana, Jones and Hughes? Perhaps they don't know, but they could find out in the sequel when Neal goes undercover._ (Didn't do this last part...)

* * *

He was the newbie, the newest member of Victor Bachman's crew, and that meant he got the boring jobs. It was his job to stand around inside the entrance, armed with a gun and watch who entered. If he let a cop or mark through, it meant the end of his career and possibly his life. He liked to believe that he would be able to get out of New York before Victor killed him. Maybe even before Victor realised he messed up. He had been the guy to catch the last undercover cop sent their way.

He jumped to attention as the door blew open. He held the gun ready to shoot inside his jacket as he walked over to the entrance.

No one was there. He decided that it must have been the wind when something brushed against his leg.

It was a black cat.

"Hello?" he questioned, bending down to give it a rub behind the ears. He hadn't missed the brilliant blue of the creature's eyes. "You're a pretty one. Better keep away from Stan though, he's allergic."

The mewed as if agreeing with him and then moved away. He watched it go, not really willing to stop it. Cats went where they wanted and were harmless creatures, as long as they stayed away from Stan.

* * *

"…also, Stan; a.k.a. 'Stan the man-breaker', is allergic to cats," Neal added to the end of Peter's report on Bachman's operations. Hughes was impressed but sceptical.

"First Barelli and now Bachman, that's impressive. However, you haven't told me how you acquired this information."

"I thought CIs didn't have to justify their information," Neal said, sore that whatever praise came his way was always overshadowed by questions.

"CIs don't, agents do," Hughes pointed out, looking at Peter.

"You really wouldn't believe me, sir," Peter responded, "can we leave it at 'a little cat told me'?"

* * *

Prompt:_ The team could be giving their report to Beckman, who wants a demonstration and explanation of Bryce's ability. She would be very surprised, but I think she would recognise that it is an ability which could come in very useful. One of the team (Casey maybe) could make a crack about how they have said before that Bryce has more lives than a cat. Chuck would be petting cat-Bryce and saying that he rather likes him this way. Sarah, once she gets over being miffed about Bryce not telling her about his ability, would also be happy about petting cat-Bryce. Perhaps she could joke that she likes him better as a cat._

* * *

"Well, he does have more lives than a cat," Casey smirked.

Bryce was standing in the centre of the floor, right before Beckman. And he was not happy. He didn't even crack a twitch of a smile at Casey's joke. Or even the fact that Casey was capable of telling a joke.

Beckman wasn't amused either.

"Should I be assigning psychological evaluations for you all?" she asked without a hint of cheer. They shuffled nervously, unconsciously responding to the threat. "The idea that Agent Larkin can turn into a cat is something which belongs in fantasy books, not the CIA. Grow up."

Bryce was about to breathe a sigh of relief as it looked like she wasn't going to look into it, when he caught a look at Chuck's face. Chuck had been against reporting this as it had little to do with the case and because he respected people's privacy. Sarah and Casey believed that the General had a right to know.

Bryce wished they would all just drop it already.

He didn't like talking about this. About what happened to him and his brother, who he most certainly will not be telling them about.

Neal liked to call the woman, 'the witch' and he just liked to forget.

"Okay, she thinks we're crazy," Chuck stage-whispered to Bryce.

"Emotional blackmail," Bryce grumbled back. But it was Chuck and he knew that Beckman now needed an explanation for how they escaped.

Bryce sighed and did a little twirl, compressing himself into his cat form. Everything grew bigger, louder, and different in a way which always made him feel wrong. Beckman took in his appearance and then signed off, saying she would get back to them.

* * *

Chuck reminded Beckman to keep this a secret and then noticed the way Bryce's body seemed to tense at their voices.

"Are you upset?" he questioned, reaching down and placing a hand on the cat's head. Unfortunately, Bryce startled and bolted, racing up the computers and coming to rest at the top of the screens. There he balanced, laying low with hackles raised and a scared shiver running through him.

"Uh, opps?" Chuck said as Sarah and Casey glared at him.

"Great. Now we have to get him down," Sarah complained as Casey grumbled a few insults towards 'Larkin'.

"Uh, here kitty?" Chuck tried, holding out his hands. Bryce shot him a distasteful look. "Please? Come on Bryce, the screens aren't made for sleeping!"

Bryce made a huffing noise which sounded like a laugh.

"Something we can agree on," Sarah said, moving forward with a chair. She climbed on it and held out her hands. Then she bent forward, trying to grab him.

At first, he moved out of reach. Then he seemed to reconsider and moved closer. Finally, he climbed over her arms and came down.

"'Bout time," Casey grumbled, "now change back."

Bryce stared at him for a moment with large blue eyes, tilted his head and mewed.

"That sounded like a 'no' to me," Chuck laughed, picking up the cat. Bryce wriggled for a bit but settled after a few moments when it became clear that Chuck wasn't going to let him run away again.

* * *

It took a little bit of nagging but Chuck finally managed to convince Sarah to pet the cat. At first she found it strange, especially since she knew the cat was Bryce but, she settled in quickly. The cat was soft and warm and soothing, vibrating as she rubbed her hand through his fur.

Beckman called back while she was rubbing Bryce between the ears.

"Agents," she greeted. Sarah's hand jolted away from the cat and Bryce flinched and jumped up on all fours in surprise.

"General," Casey greeted for the team.

"Still a cat, Larkin?" Beckman questioned. It wasn't a question but an order to change back.

The cat seemed to deflate before giving a twirl. Moments later, Bryce Larkin was sitting on the table with messy dark hair and ruffled clothes.

"General," he greeted with the flash of a smile.

"Liked him better as a cat," Casey grumbled, "talked less."

"I must admit, there is merit in this situation and I am interested in whether your... ability is connected to how you keep surviving situations where ordinary agents would be marked as 'deceased'."

The group shared a confused look. But she wasn't finished.

"Agent Larkin, I want you to stay with Team Bartowski for now."

"I thought the level of exposure I would receive staying in one place would put everyone in danger?" Bryce questioned. He was supposed to be 'dead' after all.

Beckman paused and he knew he wasn't going to like this.

"Bartowski is adopting a cat," with that said, she hung up and the screen went dark.

Bryce's face fell.

"We sell litter-boxes upstairs," Casey pointed out.

"Casey, no! He can change back for that. And, uh, for meals too," Chuck pointed out awkwardly while a smile twitched on Casey's lips.

Bryce glanced at Sarah, who hadn't said anything yet.

"I like this idea," she said bluntly.

"Really?" Chuck and Casey questioned; one in surprise and the other in amusement.

She nodded.

Bryce liked this idea a bit. It allowed him to be in Burbank and watch over Chuck and the Intersect as well as keeping him where anyone who wanted him dead couldn't find him. But, he would have to live as a cat most of the time, using the ability he had been cursed with.

That evening, Ellie cooed over the new pet Chuck brought home.


	12. OO - Only Once

**Only Once**

* * *

Fromsteampunkunicorn on AO3:

_Okay, you've done werewolves and cats, but I was wondering if you could have them be selkies. They are one of my favorite myths and it would be interesting to know why they are on land. Perhaps the CIA possesses Bryce's and Neal had become a con man to try to get it back? Just a possibility._

**Notes: **This is a long one and kind of all over the place... enjoy.

* * *

The ocean sung. There were times when Neal could hear it, loud and clear in his thoughts. It hummed like a lullaby, like a song heard in childhood.

_"Maybe it's time to grow up, Neal,"_ Bryce had said to him once. The words had been hard. They were the words of someone who had lost and couldn't see how to make things right again.

As his madre used to say; _'a selkie only gets their skin stolen once.'_ Mozzie would have liked her.

She had her skin stolen once. She hunted the thief down, took back her skin and killed him. Because of that, some of Neal's oldest memories were of staying in motels while his mother was out looking for clues.

Because they travelled with their mother on land as children, Bryce and Neal were more attached to the land-dwellers and their culture than most selkies.

Neal and Bryce returned to land years later, making new homes and identities for themselves. They didn't realise the importance of last names and how they showed who you were related to so they spent a lot of time explaining why they had different surnames. Their go to excuse became 'we were separated at birth and didn't find each other until recently'. Really, they had picked whatever last name had suited them; Neal liked the sound of 'Caffrey' while Bryce liked the simplicity of 'Larkin'.

They grew up with land-dwellers and immersed themselves in the land-dwellers culture. They weren't the first selkies to do so and whenever they returned to the sea it was always the same tune; they would return permanently eventually, once they experienced the greed of land-dwellers.

_'A selkie only gets their skin stolen once.'_

Bryce had his skin stolen during his time at Stanford. Unknown to him, a group of his housemates had ransacked his room as a joke and found his hidden skin. They had crinkled their noses at the seal skin and wondered why he would keep something so dirty and disgusting. One of them, a rich guy who was there on his parent's dime, suggested selling it.

It was sadly ironic. If Bryce hadn't gotten Chuck kicked out, Chuck would certainly have stopped them. But, Chuck was gone so they sold the skin.

Bryce discovered what had happened too late. He tore into his housemates but there was nothing they could do to stop it. Bryce grabbed his things and left, making sure that the money from the sale went into his account and not theirs.

He stayed with Neal in the apartment they acquired.

"It's not over. We can find it!" Neal insisted.

"Maybe it's time to grow up, Neal." They hadn't been to the ocean in weeks. Bryce muttered that they were selkies in name only, he more than Neal now that he lost his skin.

* * *

Bryce threw himself into pretending to be human. Neal could see that he was missing something. Without his skin, he was harder and colder than he used to be. He treated everyone with suspicion.

The father of the guy who sold the skin was a banker. Neal wasn't one for revenge but he wanted them to hurt the way his brother was hurting. He moved to New York; told Bryce that he was looking to experience life in the big city, and forged the bonds which he could use to get closer to the guy.

He found Mozzie instead and a new path was opened up to him. Maybe, he could steal it back? It was possible as the path of a conman was one that would teach him how to steal without hurting anyone.

The seal in him certainly liked the idea of taking the shiny things. As much as it loved living it a city on the waterfront.

And Neal met Kate. He forgot for a while that he wasn't human.

_'A selkie only gets their skin stolen once.'_

Neal kept his skin close to him and hidden in a bag. A bag Kate took when she ran from him. He wondered for years whether she took it with the knowledge of what it was and that it would cause him to chase her forever like the man who took his mother's skin or whether she was ignorant like those who took Bryce's skin.

He never did get his answer. He found her but he couldn't ask with the FBI right outside and Kate refused to tell him at first.

Neal spent four years in prison. Surrounded by grey walks he spent most of his time aching for the sea, for the ocean and for his kind. At times, he would dream of the dark ocean depths, of seal calls, fuzzy whiskers and instinct telling you what was right and wrong and then he would wake up in a cold cell with the cries and whimpers of angry and broken land-dwellers and wonder if this was to be his life. He would feel the overwhelming sense of loss, of a hole in his chest where his seal-self should be and he would have to resist the urge to break down.

He would have been better off at an aquarium, trapped as a seal instead of here, trapped in a form which itched on rainy days.

Kate vanished and Neal made his deal with the FBI. Working with the FBI, he realised something. It wasn't how the land-dwellers' sense of right and wrong worked, like he knew Peter was hoping he would learn.

Instead he realised that there were no Peters in the ocean. No accepting Els or conspiracy Mozzies. There were no kindly and crooked Junes.

The ocean sung and the land hummed in tune. Cars drove past June's with hums and bleeps as people moved across floors with shuffles and thuds. The office bustled with rustles, clicks, scribbles, rings and thumps of feet;

"Sleeping on the job, Caffrey?" Diana questioned. Neal opened one eye and let the hums and the song buzz in the back of his brain.

"Come on, Diana," he smirked, "wouldn't you?" He pointed to the mortgage fraud files Peter had him looking over. He was supposed to be examining the signature to see whether it had been forged.

"Hmm," she pretended to think about it for a moment. "Nope. Not when a warehouse of stolen art has been discovered."

Wait. Neal sat up straight.

"What?" Has she said what he thought she said? Was she joking to get a rise out of him?

She smirked in a 'have I got your attention, now?' kind of way.

"Peter's up there talking with the agents who discovered it," she explained, "they found it while hunting down some terrorists."

"And they probably don't want Neal Caffrey anywhere near that stolen art," Jones pointed out. He was sitting at his desk and typing away, the only one of them actually working during this gossip-fest.

"That's their loss then," Neal shrugged.

"I'd say it's their gain," Diana countered, "they don't have to put up with your childish antics."

"'Childish'?" Neal questioned, raising an eyebrow. He saw the laugh Blake suppressed.

"Well, Childish or not, seems like they want to take their chances," Peter said, causing a few agents to jump. They hadn't noticed him walk down. He added, "everyone, these are agents Carmichael, Walker and Casey. We'll be working together until we can get this mess sorted out." And Peter would take all the help he could get when terrorists were possibly involved.

Neal frowned and tried to figure out why Carmichael looked familiar. He didn't get much of a chance before the man in question walked up to his desk and asked him;

"So, who are you?"

Neal blinked. That was not a question he was used to.

"Neal Caffrey."

Carmichael's dark eyes narrowed, as if examining him for something. Whatever it was, he didn't seem to find it as he straightened up a moment later.

"I'm Chuck," he said, holding out a letter. Confusion raced through the room.

Chuck, Chuck, Chuck; where did Neal know that name from?

"Oh! Chuck out of luck!" Neal realised out loud a moment later, causing more confusion and some embarrassment on his part.

Casey grunted, as if reminding Neal to watch the insults.

Chuck flinched but sighed a moment later.

"Please tell me Bryce doesn't call me that."

"No, just me," Neal responded, opening the letter. It was from Bryce.

"Wait, he's not Bryce?" he heard Walker whisper to Chuck.

"No, he's Neal," Chuck whispered back, "Bryce's twin."

The letter said that Bryce was in New York and that his seal-skin had been found.

Neal stared at it for a moment. 'His seal-skin'? That wasn't possible. For Bryce to be able to find either of their seal-skins... Neal shivered. Why did he think of fleeing to the cold depths of the ocean?

"Neal?" Peter questioned in concern. Neal gave him a smile and then turned to Chuck.

"You're missing an agent, aren't you? I happen to know where he is."

* * *

It was a dirty, mean little trick and he knew it. Having land-dwellers around to keep them from fleeing into the ocean bordered cruel. Neal guided Peter and Chuck up the stairs to his apartment at June's and tried to quell the song of the ocean as he walked. He focused on his footsteps and the footsteps of his friend and Bryce's friend.

He opened his door to his apartment to a very angry Bryce. And a very panicked Mozzie, tied to a chair and squeaking through a gag.

"You had it!" he bellowed the moment he saw Neal. Neal nodded and hung his head.

"Bryce?" Chuck questioned softly, a little worried at his friend's anger. Peter moved to cover Neal and glared at Bryce.

Bryce saw his friend and Neal's friend trying to protect his brother from him and forced himself to calm down. It hurt to see others believe he would hurt his twin when he only intended to scare him a little because he was annoyed that Neal kept this from him.

Once he calmed down, he could feel that Neal was upset and apologetic.

"Why?" he asked, one some level unable to believe that they were even having this conversation.

"I found it," Neal explained, "Mozzie helped me to find it." Speaking of Mozzie, "untie him."

Bryce sighed and did so. Mozzie took a huge gasp of air as the gag came off.

"Neal! You never warned me that your crazy copy was in the city!" Mozzie said frantically.

"I didn't know," Neal responded but Mozzie wasn't really listening.

"I'm not crazy," Bryce said around the same time and Mozzie gave him a 'really?' glare.

"He's questioning me about those skins Kate gave me ages ago! What are they?"

"Guess," Neal sighed. There was a fluttering in his chest but, surely that couldn't be?

"Skins?" Peter questioned in a horrified voice. He was imagining a great number of violent crimes which he wouldn't have thought to attribute to Neal, although he wouldn't put it past Mozzie and perhaps even Kate.

To everyone's, except Bryce's, surprise, Chuck was the one to respond;

"Have you ever heard of Selkies?"

Neal missed the explanation through the roaring in his ears. For a moment he thought he was on the beach.

"Neal? Neal!" He blinked and he was back in his apartment, with Peter's hands on his shoulders and a worried Chuck eyeing him.

"Moz, where are they?" he questioned, the gravel in his voice surprising even him.

"Well, I left one in the iron box but I gave the other to the crazy clone," Mozzie admitted in embarrassment.

"Where is it?" Neal questioned, turning to Bryce. He must had convinced Mozzie to bring him one of the skins before realising that Neal actually possessed both. Or he was looking for evidence that Mozzie knew where they were and started questioning him on the location when Mozzie only brought him one skin.

"Neal?" Bryce questioned in concern. He moved closer to him and placed a hand on Neal's cheek. It was cold and damp.

_'A selkie only gets their skin stolen once.'_

**Why?**

"You need to get rid of it!" Neal yelled while he could. Hands grabbed him and pushed him onto the floor, trying to keep him calm.

"What?" Bryce questioned. They both knew that destroying the skin would kill Neal. "Why?"

When Bryce lost his skin, Neal had spoken with a few of the ancient selkies.

"'A selkie only gets their skin stolen once,'" Neal recited, shivering as he felt the pull of the waves rush over him. "Do you know why?"

"He's sick, we should get him to a hospital!" Peter raged, pacing back and forth as Chuck and Bryce tended to Neal. He was visibly shivering by now, his body cold and clammy.

"Mozzie!" Neal whimpered as he resisted the call of his skin as much as he could. He couldn't leave; there were no Peters in the ocean and if he gave into the call, he would never see any of the people he cared for again.

He heard Mozzie's pounding feet; a sound which dissolved into the rumble of storm clouds over the ocean.

He came to himself moments later as a hand gripped his wrist and pushed him to the ground.

"Uncle! Uncle!" Neal cried as Chuck held him down.

"What was that?" Bryce gasped.

"That's what I was trying to tell you," Neal gasped out, "the longer a selkie is away from its skin, the stronger the call to find it."

"What?"

Neal made them wait until Mozzie was back. He had a drink of water and tried to push the song of the ocean back to the back of his mind.

* * *

When a selkie is separated from its skin, the skin begins to give off a 'call'. There's an urge within the selkie to be whole again. At first, it's weak. But the longer the skin and the selkie are apart, the stronger the call becomes.

If a strong call reaches its selkie, the selkie could go mad trying to get their skin back. It had happened to their mother.

A selkie only gets their skin stolen once and when they are reunited with their skin, they forget about their time on land and hurry to return to the ocean. Their memories return in time but 'time' could mean hundreds of years. Those who the selkie knew during their time on land would be long gone.

* * *

"Once, in Italy, I helped another selkie get back her stolen skin. Even though she had a lover she was eager to return to, she forgot the moment she had her skin back. It wasn't that she was cruel, it's just that she couldn't resist her nature. Our nature."

Peter didn't know what to make of this. Mozzie looked interested and slightly overjoyed as everything he suspected was proven true. Chuck was nodding as if this all made sense. Bryce has a growing look of horror as Neal explained what was going on.

Peter wanted to believe that this was nonsense but, he had seen the look in Neal's eyes. Neal had thrown the worried Chuck and Bryce off him and then punched Bryce in the face before Chuck rushed in to stop him. The look in his eyes had been indescribable. The only conclusion he could reach was that it hadn't been Neal, not the Neal he knew, but something more… wild.

"You probably could feel a little from my skin," Neal said to Bryce, "which is why you were so edgy when we arrived."

"Was that was what that was?" Bryce questioned, shivering a little. Then he seemed to realise something. "Uh, did I really threaten to shoot you?" he asked Mozzie.

The little guy nodded with a solemn expression.

"The skin is now in an iron box downstairs," Mozzie explained, "and I will return it to the stash when I leave." He turned to Neal. "I assume the iron does something to dampen the call?"

Peter gave him a look which said 'I can't believe you're acting like this is normal' while Neal nodded.

"I laced the bag Kate took with metals in order to do the same thing," he explained, "it kind of backfired when she ran off with it."

"Hey, at least she returned it," Bryce said. Mozzie and Peter both were silent.

"Mozzie?" Neal prodded.

"I kind of… took it back from her," Mozzie explained. "And since you explained what to do if I found it, I followed your instructions and locked the skins in the box."

Neal sighed while Bryce was silent.

"You okay?" Chuck asked Bryce.

"I could be worse," Bryce said. "I just… never thought that I would have to choose. The land or the sea?"

"You could always hit the pool," Neal suggested with a smirk. If it had been anyone else, Bryce would have hit them. But, since it was Neal, he considered the advice.

"You've already decided, haven't you?"

Neal pointed to the tracker on his ankle.

"I still have years left on my sentence," he explained, "I'm not going anywhere until this is off."

Bryce nodded and thought about it. His skin would be safe, Neal's friend would take care of that. But, never seeing it again? He wanted to swim in the waves like he used to as a child but, that meant never seeing Chuck or Sarah or even Casey again. It meant no spying and he loved the challenges of being a spy.

The ocean still sung to him. He sighed, knowing that he wouldn't respond to that call for a long time.


	13. BD - Brood

**Brood**

* * *

From Shyn on AO3,

_Prompt: Neal and Bryce both ended up with different abilities due to their dragon ancestry. For example, Neal literally cannot resist shiny things and Bryce loves the adrenaline that leads from a spy life. Obviously, their abilities influenced their chosen careers. Of course, there are some downsides to being part dragon...especially when your best friend Chuck is descended from dragon hunters._

**Notes: **Sorry for the wait! This is a bit of a long one (and tricky to write even though I like dragons) or it felt long. If you're waiting on the next chapter of OMEN, you'll be waiting a bit longer - I'm still writing it and figuring out how to end it.

As always, there has been minimal editing done to this, so apologies in advance for any mistakes.

* * *

Neal twirled the diamond necklace in his hand, completely entranced by the light. He lost count of how long he had been looking at it but, apparently long enough that his ever-patient brother ran out of patience.

"Focus!" Bryce scolded, snatching the necklace from Neal and hiding it behind his back. For a moment, Neal hissed and was ready to fight for his treasure, until it vanished from his sight.

Neal paused for a moment, unwilling to admit that it had happened again. His dragon blood had caused him to collect and protect another shiny thing.

"I already said no," Neal reminded Bryce. Bryce sighed and brought out the necklace again. He dangled in front of his twin.

"If you say yes, I'll give you this," he taunted. Neal's eyes narrowed.

"No." See? He could resist the call of his blood if he needed too. "Your dragon hunter friend is not going to stay here." It was probably the call of Bryce's own dragon blood that drew him to the hunter in the first place.

Ohh... he wanted that shiny. His gut squirmed uncomfortably.

Bryce sighed and slipped the necklace into his pocket.

"Fine. I'm going to ask June," he said, leaving. He didn't notice the way his pocket got lighter as he left.

Neal returned to sitting in the sun and admiring his prize. His dragon blood allowed him to make himself unnoticeable if he needed to.

* * *

Unfortunately, June said 'yes' and couldn't understand why Bryce didn't just ask Neal because of course Neal would say 'yes'. Unless the guy was a cop or non-White Collar fed. Neal was tempted to say that he was CIA but that would end very badly for him. And would put June in danger.

* * *

Peter glared at Satchmo as his traitor of a 'best friend' ran off to greet and not growl at the intruder into his home.

"Neal, the door was locked," he pointed out as his CI waltzed into his dining room.

"Huh?" Neal feigned confusion. "No it isn't."

Peter narrowed his eyes. It certainly wasn't now but it had been before Neal got to it.

"Neal!" El greeted him cheerily as she walked in with the meatloaf. "Are you staying for dinner?"

"I already ate, thanks El," Neal said with a smile. Peter's mood was slightly improved; at least Neal's presence wasn't going to lessen his share.

"Why are you here?" he asked as he started spooning peas and other veggies onto his plate.

Neal smiled weakly and clenched his hands together in front of himself. Peter almost thought he could see steam twisting around the younger man.

"Does this have to do with the," and he couldn't believe he was saying this, "'dragon-thing'?" Seriously, if one of Neal's mother's dragon friends hadn't tried to kill Peter for 'chaining her godchild, even if he was a half-breed and not fit for dragon society', then he wouldn't have found out about Neal's half-dragon blood. He also wouldn't have believed it so he didn't scold Neal for not telling him.

"Sort of," Neal said, taking a seat at the table. "See, Bryce is in town-"

"Who's Bryce?" El asked. Neal glanced at her but didn't answer the question.

"Bryce is in town and he wanted to stay with me. Which would be fine, except he brought his dragon-hunter friend with him."

"Dragon hunter?" Peter questioned, sceptical.

"Yeah. Chuck's descended from a long line of dragon-hunters and would probably love nothing more than to gut me."

"Well. That's... pleasant," El said, a frown marring her features.

"Don't most people who meet you want to gut you?" Peter questioned. He received an outraged and kicked puppy look for his comment. "There was Wilkes and-"

"Hey," Neal interrupted, "that's not fair. I actually did something to bug him. This is different. Chuck, how do I put this, radiates an aura which terrifies those with dragon's blood and gets regular people to relax in his presence."

"You're scared of this guy."

"No! Yes! Maybe? It's nature, I can't fight it! This is a guy born to kill people like me, you can't blame me for showing a little caution."

The Burkes shared a look. Peter didn't know how to handle this stuff and, for once, El didn't have any ideas either.

* * *

Mozzie walked right into Neal's apartment without stopping. If he interrupted Neal's time with anyone other than June, then good. He didn't trust the Suit with Neal anyway.

"Neal-" he started to say before he took stock of the room's inhabitants. One was a mousy looking brunette and the other looked a little like Neal but his body language was all wrong. "Who are you?"

"Hi, I'm Chuck," Chuck said with a smile and a wave. Mozzie's eyes went to the sword the man had been polishing when he entered. He then turned to the Neal look-a-like and raised his eyebrows. If this was Neal, he would indicate how he was to approach this stranger.

It took a few moments before the look-a-like to response; he was most certainly not Neal, Neal never paused for that long.

"Bryce," he stated.

"My name is of no consequence," Mozzie responded, "I merely wish to know where I can find Neal."

"You and me both," Bryce grumbled. He waved to Chuck. "I'm trying to get him to see that Chuck's an okay guy but he doesn't seem to get it."

"I work at the Buy More during the day and hunt dragons at night," Chuck explained with a friendly smile. He left out the CIA stuff because that was a secret.

"Hunt. Dragons?" Mozzie questioned slowly. Chuck wouldn't be the first person to tell Mozzie that but, he was the first to do so with a weapon sitting in front of him.

"Yeah. There are all kinds of dragons. Good kinds which bring prosperity and luck to those they like and bad kinds who like to hunt, hurt and kill people for the fun of it. And treasure. A lot of dragons like to do things for treasure. And then there are half-breeds like Bryce and you don't want to know what happens if a human gets their hands on dragon blood or teeth. Yeah. Dragon teeth are the worst. Once and a while, you get someone who thinks it's a smart idea to drop a dragon tooth on the ground and 'boom' instant undead army. Of course, said undead army always turns on the planter-"

"Okay, Chuck, enough," Bryce ordered.

Meanwhile, Mozzie's head was spinning. He didn't think real dragons, he thought it was one of those games people sometimes talked about, but it was obvious that Chuck did. So, either he was crazy or there was more going on here than Mozzie thought.

"Dragons?" he questioned, ignoring the slight squeak in his voice.

"Wait," Bryce said slowly, realisation dawning, "Neal didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

* * *

Peter didn't know why but he had expected this. Maybe it was the way Neal had come running to his house. Maybe it was Neal's loose mentions of a 'Bryce' and 'Chuck' back at his apartment; and more information given about Chuck than Bryce which always sent Peter's alarm bells ringing.

So when he opened the door to a frustrated Mozzie, fiddling with his glasses, a lithe brunette with sleeked yet still unruly hair and a sword strapped to his belt and a man who looked remarkably like Neal wearing casual clothes, Peter just sighed.

"Let me guess; Chuck," he pointed to the brunette, "and Bryce," he pointed to the man who looked like Neal.

"Wow, how'd you know?" Chuck questioned as if he had pulled off some kind of magic trick.

"Let us in, Suit. We need to talk to Neal."

"He's not here."

"Don't lie to me, government sleaze. We both know that Neal runs to you if I'm not available."

"Look, Neal doesn't want to see them," Peter said, feeling bad as he said it. But, Neal was on the edge of running and that was the last thing he wanted.

"Look, Chuck is harmless," Bryce protested, "and I'm his brother. You can at least let us in."

"Not harmless!" Neal bellowed from where he was sulking on the couch. Peter rubbed the bridge of his nose as Neal confirmed that he was inside, making it even harder for him to get the people on his doorstep to leave.

Why did Neal have to bring his drama to Peter's doorstep?

"Mozzie can come in," Peter said, stepping away for the little guy to dash into his house. "And thank you for not using the back door this time."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Mozzie responded, "I always use whatever door takes my fancy. Habits make it easy for others to track you."

Peter glanced to Bryce and Chuck, just to see if they found Mozzie as ridiculous as he did. Bryce just shrugged, as if he agreed with the man and Chuck looked thoughtful.

"How do you even get to the back door?" he questioned. He had seen the gate but it was locked and there was no reason to go through it.

"Not everyone is as honest as you," Bryce responded, taking a step inside.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me about this!" Mozzie could be heard saying in the lounge. "It's proof that our governments are lying to us!"

"You're not taking this to the government," Peter found himself saying automatically. That would just cause trouble for them and for Neal; plus Neal looked rather upset at what Mozzie was saying.

He continued, "it's probably not even the governments hiding this, did it occur to you that ordinary people might not what to know about this," he certainly didn't but he couldn't change that now, "and that Neal might not want everyone knowing that he's half-dragons."

"That's right," Bryce piped up with before Mozzie could respond. "We don't want people trying to kill us just because of how we were born."

Peter nodded until that last part sunk in.

"'How'?" he questioned, glancing between Bryce and Neal. "Nevermind, I don't want to know."

"Really?" Neal questioned with his con smile. "It's why I am who I am."

"Neal. I really doubt you became a great conman and thief just because of 'how' you were born. This isn't Macbeth."

"Oh, speaking of, there's a play of that outside my radius which is-"

"No. I already sat through the play in high school, I'm not doing it again." Peter did note that Neal flashed a real smile while they were talking, which meant he was feeling better.

"Fine," Mozzie relented, feeling left out, "I shall become a secret-keeper and take this to my grave."

"I still can't believe that you didn't tell him," Bryce commented, "I mean, even the FBI guy knows."

This started Mozzie back up with demands on why the Suit got to know first. Neal had to tell him how it happened and was slightly distracted from Chuck's presence in the room.

Later, El brought in cookies while Chuck, Bryce and Neal shared stories.

* * *

The next morning, Bryce was gone when everyone woke. Neal and Chuck joined forces to track him down but it was Peter who located him first.

Apparently, Bryce had gotten 'itchy' during the night and decided to go out and look for some action, which led him to sneaking into a hostage situation and saving hostages and knocking out the criminal.

Neal had a talk to him about that because if Bryce could use his attraction to shiny things against him, then he could scold Bryce whenever the adrenaline bug hit; since that was caused by his dragon blood.


	14. CCLB - Clone Club

**CCLB - Clone Club**

* * *

From Beckers on AO3

_OH! If you've ever seen Orphan Black, you'll know what I'm talking about: Neal finds out he's a clone when he meets Bryce on a job while undercover with Peter. There are other clones, maybe, that you could make up? Like, one is a devoted father of two adopted children (clones can't have kids), one is a scientist, one is Russian. Bryce found out recently, and he's been tracking them down with Team Bartowski to try and find out what's going on. CLONE CLUB!_

**Notes: **Okay, this one is more focused on Neal and there's no Team Bartowski. There's clones though (although Russian and scientist aren't outright stated, you can pretend they exist - I'd imagine they were the ones who helped take down the program). And for those waiting on OMEN updates, I'm working on it. It should be next. And I haven't seen Orphan Black.

* * *

For Bryce, it all started with an email.

For Neal, it all started when he met Bryce.

* * *

"I'm a WHAT?" Neal gaped in shock and horror. There was just no way, this wasn't possible and, for once, Peter almost agreed with him.

The only difference was that Peter was aware of some of the unethical programs that were undertaken, with or without government knowledge. He hadn't heard of this but, that didn't mean it wasn't out there and that he wouldn't hunt the people behind this down.

"A clone," the man who looked like an older Neal with a crew-cut stated. He had introduced himself as 'Stanley' and he worked for the NSA.

Bryce mouthed 'sorry' at Neal like it would make this any better.

"There are laws against human cloning," Peter reminded them.

"There are laws against murder but does that stop murderers?" Stanley pointed out. "Some people will do things which are against the law, if it means they won't get caught."

"Yay," Neal muttered, looking slightly grey. Peter decided to leave the arguments until later as they weren't helping.

"Look, most of us were forcibly aged and given implanted memories," Stanley continued, "there is a batch which were allowed to grow at a normal human rate, I believe they are about twelve now."

"Thirteen," Bryce corrected.

"Thirteen," Neal muttered under his breath. Peter hoped that Diana would get back with the pick-me-up coffee for him soon.

He also wondered if this was the explanation for some of Neal's behaviour. He was younger than his appeared age, possibly no older than twenty. Then he wondered if the implanted memories made up for the lack of mental years. However, wasn't it better to experience things?

And now Peter's head hurt. He couldn't imagine how Neal was feeling.

"Look, how about we call it a day?" he suggested. Three sets of blue eyes all turned to him simultaneously. "Uh- I'm sure we can pick this up tomorrow."

"That sounds great," Neal agreed. Bryce and Stanley shared a look before Bryce nodded as well.

"All right," Stanley said gruffly, "we'll continue this tomorrow."

* * *

Neal stumbled into his apartment, thankful for Peter's presence at his side but resenting it all the same.

"Seems impossible," he commented with a smile.

"I don't understand it either," Peter shrugged. He placed the files Stanley had given Neal onto the table. "Are you going to look at these?"

Neal glanced over, a bottle of wine in his hand and shuddered. The file contained information on the clones and the profiles of some of the clones they had made contact with.

"I don't know," he said, although he knew he would have to. After all, Bryce's and Stanley's files were also in there. One thing was certain, he would need more wine.

Peter frowned and for a moment Neal wondered if he was going to leave like he planned. Elizabeth had specifically requested that he come home that night, her parents wanted to Skype with them and they wouldn't take it well if it was just her.

"I'll call tomorrow and see how you're doing," Peter said before leaving.

Neal raised an eyebrow. Did this mean that if he wasn't feeling well, he could miss out on work? Peter gave a nod as he left as a silent answer.

Peter, who rarely let him take a day off because he didn't take days off. Neal smirked; maybe this wasn't so bad.

* * *

Charlie Bowman was ten years older than Neal, married to a brunette with short hair and a kind smile and had adopted two kids. One of the kids was also one of the clones; thirteen year old Norm Bowman. Charlie worked in sales for a large corporation. His wife was a stay at home mum. Norm played soccer and basketball and his younger brother, who was a blond and obviously adopted, was more into music.

Robert Holme was a cop and a good one. He had a long list of closed cases and the nickname 'Hound' because he rarely gave up. He was younger than Neal and had slightly longer hair, more Bryce's length than his. His blue eyes were hidden behind oval sunglasses, apparently a trademark item of his.

Darren Wakefield was only twenty years old. He was an art student with a long-time girlfriend. One of his more recent purchases was a diamond ring which he saved up for by taking three part-time jobs. He was reported to always wear his trademark rainbow brooch, shaped in a bow.

Lives that could have been his.

Name after name. Similar faces, hair colours, styles and eyes. Whoever created them produced them during a three year period. Like Stanley said, the young ones were the only batch to be raised from babies and they were the second-last batch.

Neal and Bryce were the batch before them and Neal noticed something which sent more shivers down his spine.

Triston Deman, Max Tucker, Denton Whitaker, on and on the names of his batch went.

They were all marked 'deceased'. Even Bryce's was marked with two different 'deceased' dates and explanations on how he was revived.

Neal was the only one who hadn't died. He and Bryce were the only ones still alive.

He grabbed his phone and dialled the number on Stanley's file.

"Hel-"

"Am I in some kind of danger?"

There was a sigh on the other end. Neal didn't think about how similar it sounded to his.

"No. Bryce and I checked your file. Lots of close calls but-"

"But?"

"You know how when you mass produce items, you sometimes get faulty ones?"

Neal did know that and he had a feeling he knew what Stanley was suggesting.

"Are you saying I'm faulty?"

"Yes." Blunt, wasn't he? Neal like that. It meant he wasn't going to lie to him. "Basically, your group was conditioned to either be criminals, agents or military. Instead of being forced into one or the others, you were turned loose in order to see which you would choose. Most chose either criminals or military. Bryce and two others were recruited as secret agents. None ended up in the FBI. Unless you count yourself.

"But, not matter which path, you were all intended to use guns. Now, you chose to be non-violent and not use guns. You even went out of your way to avoid them. That makes you faulty. It's also the reason you haven't been gunned down like the rest of your batch."

Neal's mouth hung open, making it hard to respond. He closed it and swallowed a few times.

"Do I want to know what the point of making us was?"

"Testing survival rates or something like that. All I know is, your batch is the reason a group of researches and a few of the clones in the know decided to get together and shut the program down. Violently." Didn't really answer Neal's question but it did tell him of the fate of those behind his creation. "Now, you might want to talk to your sneaky little friend."

"What?"

"Hey, Neal!" Mozzie sung out a moment later, walking through the door like he owned the place. "Why do the suits have a watch on you?"

"And tell him we're spooks, not suits," Stanley joked before ending the call.

* * *

Mozzie was more aghast that the spooks had been able to spot him entering June's than the fact his friend wasn't all he seemed. In fact, he took Neal's news with knowing nods and interest in the other clones. He was also glad when Neal explained that he wasn't going to die the way his creators apparently intended.

Mozzie believed he had something to do with that and Neal wasn't going to correct him. Mozzie was a big influence on him and shared his opinion on guns.

"You know," Mozzie said, "I have a list of things to do if I had a clone. Would you like to borrow it?"

"I don't have a clone. I am a clone," Neal corrected him in a dry voice. He didn't really like saying it.

"I have a list for that too," Mozzie explained.

"Really?"

"Number one, kill original and take his place," Mozzie recited, "number two, if cannot kill original, mess with his life instead."

"I don't even know if there is an original," Neal pointed out, not at all surprised that Mozzie had memorised the list.

"Okay then. Number thirty-six, get together with other clones and pull off impossible heist. See numbers thirty-seven and thirty-nine for ideas."

"Pass," Neal said, pointing to his anklet. "Besides, the clones I have met are law-abiding."

"Curses. Okay, number fifty, mess with people's heads."

"Certainly an idea for the future," Neal agreed, making a mental note to see if Bryce would play along with him.

"There's twenty-two as well," Mozzie said, "get to know original, or in your case, other clones. Of course, any clone of myself would possibly have a list of things as well. I imagine a social person like yourself would prefer this option."

"Thanks, Moz," Neal said with a smile.

"Not a problem. Now hand me that wine and we'll talk about numbers twenty-five to thirty."


End file.
